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I told her about my

 

I told her about my

 

I told her about my new place my ex in case she worried she wasn’t too bad about it I don’t wanna talk about that that’s life not poetry what then is poetry? something free & unattached like a stick floating along a gutter after a flooding rain turn the beat around said Gloria Estefan “love to hear percussion” so yeah the beat goes on & on like Frank Zappa’s dancing fool advice to young poets: take up the drums, sing BVs & join a brain sweet sweet soul music makes you free of course people don’t read much much harder than your husband to get along with still Frank & the deliveries are being made like I’m an old maid I’m an old man in the shade so you said hear wot? & with a nose full of snot just up from the cot of bother in a spot it’s ok said mon frere “I ain’t mad at ya”

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

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