This poem emerged from a writing exercise suggested by the poet Jo Bell. It is constructed of first lines from abandoned poems in my 2022 notebook. Some of them may reappear later in the year but for now they have found a home together that makes an odd kind of sense (to me, anyway)
snot rags and guilt bags
this is not a raised arm welcome to the freedom of the city
goldfinch in the kitchen
up against the wall
pie and mash and liquor with sawdust on the floor
beech life is a virus
you don’t look ill at all
my arm is not a swinger any more
the small clothes in the wardrobe
the rules we learn to follow
In the friendly village facebook group
time for wednesday wine
I’m crossing the line
raise a glass to the last unwanted
broccoli has a problem
the dog, the cat, the bird.
the man who invented fresh air
metamorphoses will follow
a desire to inspire or expire
like a rogue monkey in a clockwork sky
Thank you
I like this ... got me thinking. Wednesday wine, broccoli, so much to think about. My writing is so bad now I can't read it so I always type. But when I type I tend to delete lines rather than keeping them in a notebook like I used to. I miss that.
Love this Martin and each of those lines has impact, for me it was small clothes in the wardrobe and broccoli has a problem. One made me whistful the other made me laugh. I may steal one, ( possible challenge in here?).Thank you.
Martin well done on blending these different elements there is cohesion here despite the poems origins