flower power
the writing process
words mine
astronaught
poetry farm
ctrl a
just write
poetry warning
fishing expedition
a model spinosaurus
(the real thing was enormous
weighed 8 tons
and not much fun
to share an upstairs space with us)
stands by a pen pot
(a repurposed lobster can I got
that’s probably fake
but good to take
the scissors and pencils I use a lot)
waiting for its chance
as my words slowly advance
through the swamp
so it can chomp
on a swordfish or a coelacanth
last of the great deep enders
hi
it’s me
yer basic schnoodlum
one part shrug
two parts hoodlum
wasted it’s fair
on the slopes
of this chair
no hope
or hair
lamentably
there
dependably
spare
a shame
it’s a name
no one remembers
last in line
of the great deep enders
waving his arms
hands, legs
whatever he’s got
going nowhere
splashing a lot
no i wouldn’t do that if i were you
okay so this poem
this mixed-up modem
this odd wad of word gum
this ho-hum ovum
this proto golem
walking arms-out into the ocean
this foaming jeroboam
to spray round a podium
no-one invited you on
as always… it’s vital
to give it a title
which I manage after an hour or two:
no i wouldn’t do that if i were you
jim clayton 