Apr '13 24
Today nothing I read inspired me to write a poem (or maybe everything I read inspired me and I was overcome with choice), so I began to think about excuses.

The dog ate poem number 23.5, so here is poem number 24.

Why?

There are times when
the mind
needs a break,
takes off
to let off
steam,
takes on
a teen-ish tint:
disappears to watch Dr Who re-runs and write fan fiction;
vamooses to discuss time travel with little green men;
heads to McDonald's to drown in a McFlurry;
sings and dances on bedroom-floor-stored clothes;
glances at the leaning tower of poemwork and goes out for a swing;
leaves for the land of long and cloudy dreaming;
decides to grow an idea then forgets to water it;
devours two-and-a-half books in one day with time left over;
ambles out of its room at the last minute;
questions quantum physics and names the stars but can't find its sports shoes;
saunters away from you mid-conversation;
sits texting, reading and watching Dr Who re-runs (again);
meanders through bookshops in a heavenly state;
holds its secrets close and its mysteries near.

Butthenyourmindreturnsandhugsyoutightlyandtellsyoubreathlessly
thatitlovesyouandbakesyouthetastiestchocolate-muffinypoems
thatweresoworththewait.


Posted by Jennifer Liston

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  1. russpoet says:

    *Gee, how nice of you to write about me.

  2. Jen says:

    *Haha, didn't realise you were still a teenager, Russ!

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