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Poetry Magnum Opus


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This is the getting out of class,

so cool to break the rules in hell.


I share a Twix, four cans of Stella.

The fridge magnets spell good luck


love mam. The girl is from my class.

Next door's TV is really loud.


I see the clouds in her blue eyes,

her mouth is chocolate and beer.


The postie walks by number eight

without a thought, without a pause.


This girl is cool. The letter 'l'

she throws away, spells with an 'f'.


TV is playing Paranoid Android.

We share out some easy bruises


across my neck, above her breast,

should get us an A-star from class.


Next door sell dogs, mainly pit-bulls.

I'm keen on them, but not this girl.


Her skin is grit in Christmas snow,

our love is shared on tinternet.

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Badge, you're on fire. Your latest works here in the overflow forum [this one, "Shropshire," and "W.E. Dowds (Shipping) Ltd.] are, as usual, intriguing, and I read them over and over. I derive pleasure from them. (That's okay with a poem, right?)


"Truant" takes me back, away from an all too familiar uneasy sophistication of Douglas Dunn's "Modern Love," to a domestic tranquility where I recall that ignorance was bliss. I can't go back, but sometimes I wish I could.



Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic

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It's okay with me Tony :smile: And thanks for that link. Enjoyed.





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