Poueltry

Standard

So a short post this week – but one about something that has addled my brain for – literally – months. I had an idea for a little poem – a two liner piece of nonsense that made me smile and, well, that was about it. 

But try as I might, I just couldn’t get the words in these two lines to fit. It ended up sounding grandiloquent as I reached for words such as ‘behold’ and ‘shall’ to make the meter of the poem ‘fit’. When I took them out, the poem felt unfinished and – odd as it may seem for a two-liner – disjointed.

And then it simply came to me. So I give you my new poem “Poueltry”. It won’t change your life. It won’t give you any insight into either the mind of the creator or access to the drawer of index cards at the Anima Mundi. And yes – it is very ‘Ogden Nash’. But, then again, so was Ogden Nash. All I know is that I like it. And here it is – the result of two month’s of the most intense and inexplicable frustration …

Poueltry

Poultry and poetry – the difference, I’m told,

Is that one is a chicken and the other, an ode. 

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