Critical Condition

there’s your problem

you’re just not angry enough

to be a good poet,

of course, you would know

you’ve done the course, 

got the creative writing degree

know what a ‘McGuffin’ is,

you’re not very rock-and-roll are you

short hair, married half a century

you drive a Ford for fuck sake,

tell me one thing about you

that would surprise me,

okay, I’ve read all Murakami’s books

I haven’t been to the dentist since

I was a teenager, and

I’ve done a speed awareness course

for doing forty-seven in a forty limit

on a Sunday morning

after finishing my mother’s gardening,

haven’t you ever been arrested

been on a demo, fucked another woman

or even another man

Jesus Christ, you’re a bloody saint,

I did meet John Sebastian once

after a jug band gig

he punched my arm, gently

and said ‘oh man’

when I told him how I’d loved 

‘what a day for a daydream’

back in the sixties,

far out, but for my money

you need a healthy dose of tragedy

lose a close friend or your dog

start gambling, drink too much

like Dylan Thomas

now there was a real poet

*

© Graham Sherwood 03/2021