April for poetry isn’t just themed, it is the beginning of an intentional process of detachment. My brain, built as it is, has an almost obsessive need sometimes for order and control. However, increasing amounts of current poetry is anything but: free-form verse, little or no controlled structure, simply feelings falling from brain to page. What matters far more than a framework is the emergence of a unique poetic ‘tone’, rhythm of vocal presentation that only really manifests when the works are read aloud.

Therefore, I’m working hard on the process of attempting to decouple brain from structure. This week’s the foundation point, and Twitter’s restrictions make this a lot more conventional than I’d like, which we will address with next week’s subject matter. For now, however, it works as a means of environmental protest.


Jungle

Chlorophyll canopy, dancing
sunlight, humid motes
thousand-hued boughs:
welcome to the jungle.

Insect population, living
ecosystem, multicoloured
sensational overload:
moment in crisis.

Over-zealous farmers, stripping
green’s worth, bulldozing
entire species, extinction:
all for profit.

Planetary meltdown, stripping
colour, diversity’s
green turns to dust:
variety extinction.

Joint responsibility, changing
money-driven attitudes
preserve the jungle:
secure Earth’s future.