Proper Poetry

The beam of a true poem balances when each pan hovers with just right the weight. A real poem contains rhyme; Each line leads us to a prediction. — When I was at junior school, it was the end-of-term duty of the girls in the highest class, Standard 5, to gather news from each year.

A quiet night preludes the festivities

‘Tis the night before I head off to find Christmas. with an inflatable bed and homemade biscuits. All through this lodging there is hardly a clatter; only Depeche Mode on my laptop and my landlady’s patter. To the front door she shuffles and hooks up the chain. Yesterday’s outside, while we’re bolted in. 22/12/13 —