The Poem’s the Thing


And this one sings
and screams
and sways.

She’s got
legs for days
but she’s still tripping

over her own un
-ambic feet.

She takes her scotch
neat, and her sea
with an extra
shake of salt.

She’s got a few extra
to spare, if you’re
hungry and you dare,
and a whats-it,
if you don’t, or
you’re not.

She’s caught
between a
(scissors, paper)
rock and a hard
place, the needful
things of soul
and time and space
and silence.

She’s caught
the consciousness
of kings
and thrones,
thrown stones
at glass and passed
herself off as story,

She’s a skeleton,
an ode, a long dark
road to nowhere
or somewhere no
-one wants to go.

She might be every
-thing, or no
thing. Or somewhere
……………in between.

But see, here’s the
thing: she’ll never


Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 8

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1 Response to The Poem’s the Thing

  1. erbiage says:

    De- Lightful! Yes yes yes! I’ll never no Your po- M m m m

    Sent from my iPhone

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