NOT POSH ENOUGH

MAYBE IN BOLD - A POEM POME

  these Werds are inadequate 
  just a scribbled attempt . . .

moans the Poet over his breakfast eggs

  they come out so quiet
  might
  as
  well
  be
  a
  silent yell of breath

the Poet looks at the uneven prongs on his fork

  but such breath 
      such yelling would only
                         invite
                         dull
                         questions . . .

and the Poets eyes widen in fear  questions . . . but

  they can question the Poet
  but they cant ask the Poem

the Poet cries in victory  in vanity  (?)

  and the Werds had purpose once again
  like distance
  like stone

and freed the poet Wrote of animals ;

     now  these quiet animals 
   naked and woolly 
    have the dignity of weather green statues
     in  their living silence
  in their unattempted poise
   
   and
    there is mystery enough
         i think 
  in their multipurpose bleats
  
    they speak hard with their huge eyes
  and with 
       honest  and easy
   and  unapologetic
    habit
  and appetite 
      and action

and the Poet laughed all the way to brunch

from www.tvtropes.org

THE WORST DREAM

i 
dreamed 
the sky was newsprint epitaphs
and
i 
was
very normal - a forgettable grey 
              and 
              ashamed

and 
i grew older and blander
and 
i was fading and shrinking
into
unnoticeable
head-down
zipped-up beige

and i tried to yell to my dreamself
no
no
nooooooo

but i didnt hear

from the bugoutbagguide.com

NIGHTS SWAMP

the night is a swamp

hungry grey static

something exposed

identical
every time

and when its empty yell
  
  falls
    down

i dream a starburst of faces

from Social Tech Guide

LIMP AS WET FRUIT

of course 
i could not get back to sleep
so
now
i
stand
aching in dawns clear pastel
too
tired
to
wash
eat
or
plan
wondering and worrying
how
i will open myself for Words again
how
to
bust out a Yell again / be alarming as morning tv
or
be
a Revelation
like 
natures silent and screaming trees

from alanbaxteronline.com