The weather is just not suited to serious poetry. So I made it a laugh, I even swore-a really bad word.
Perhaps there’s just nothing to say
In the heat and the darkness
The words drift away
There’s nothing of note
Going on in my head
No words that I wrote
Springing on to the page
My thoughts have all left
They’ve just walked away
Like words in rebellion
They’ve abandoned me here
Just up and gone,
they’ve all disappeared
What is a poet
Who can’t write a verse
Who can’t find a rhyme
Does it get any worse?
Ouch that was bad
Please rhyme it with something
Other than-
Did you see how the rhythm went all awry
How the timing packed up,
And just said good- I
Can’t write that
What was I thinking?
Do I have a brain?
Fuck its hot here,
I wish it would rain.
A Tuesday Latte 