I don’t do ‘real’,
‘proper’
poetry.
It’s not for me –
it might not be be for you.
Anyway, I just say
what comes to mind,
and find that
‘that’
is
‘my’
poetry voice.
It’s your choice
as to whether you read it,
heed it,
feed it to the hungry poetry fishes,
whose wishes are
to consume words dangling
upon the lines that I lower their way,
or cast adrift
in their general direction –
a selection of which
are just like those written above;
or would you rather I wrote
a sonnet of love?