Poets Die in Hot Cars – They Do!

These poems were recently seen in the windows of hot cars on a hot day in a hot car park. The RSPCP was informed; but, unfortunately, it was too late. The poems below are stark reminders that you must ‘not’ leave your poet in a hot car under any circumstances. – even a few minutes could cause a poetical fatality.

The first example is by a poet desperately calling for help:
“Help me please

This heat does pierce

And I hunger for air

And water-needs thirst!”
We think the poet may have been heat-affected and ‘really’ confused, as it’s obvious that ‘thirst’ needs ‘water’ and not the other way round – but, being a poet – he may have just been being a little poetical there.
The next is a truly sad tale from a younger poet:
“Please let me out

I’m too young to die

I want to be a living poet

Not a non sort of guy.”
Notice the modern ‘guy’ here and the lack of a signature to that one leads us to wonder at his name and what brought him to this tearful end.
The third example is short and none too subtle:
“Let me out

I shout;

But, I doubt

If anyone can hear

The solitary ‘Me’ capitalised as it is,

May be a sign of ‘self’ or ‘self-awareness’. Or it may not.
The final one is the worst of all. As poems go, this one leads us to, perhaps, think that it may have been a kind (for us) release:
“Here in my car

I feel safest of all;

Even though I might

Not be able to fall.”
Which, I am sure you will all agree, is total rubbish. 
So, let this be a lesson to us: never leave our poets unattended in any circumstances in a hot car.
We have been warned.


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