As life returns to normal, post-COVID infection, I thought it might be an idea to write some longer form poems for the next 30 days, to get me back into the business of routine. Fortunately, Twitter has provided an event for that: #NaPoWriMo, which is part of #NationalPoetryMonth.
#28 probably needs a re-write, but with two days left to go? It can stay as it is. I’m proud of it regardless, because it was the first time I properly rebelled with a contest entry. Fat lot of good that did me.
Thank you for taking the time to read, and please comment if you like this 😀
Angle Poise Now I’m older I’m not astronaut caught in your pointless gravity I’m not a fire-woman, but pour sand where flashpoints rise; I’m not the doctor either, ‘til your fragile ego’s broken I’m never a pop star yet sing Hallelujah tune in time; I don’t want to be a politician won’t lie better in bed I don’t need lottery winnings to grasp wealth of inexperience; I don’t have qualifications making me an utter exploitative bastard I don’t expect you to understand what our problem is either. My angle, poise precision, illuminating darkness cold sofa, bed red mourning one last time. My life, no longer ours to fix then damage boy, untold failures, immaturity defined.
The Internet of Words 