Seagull Manager

Yesterday was a wash out for poetry; arrived home after work to learn our wonky fridge door hinge had finally cracked – literally. Husband had the bright idea of taking hinges off the – defunct – under counter freezer and using those (as the appliances were originally a matching set); so he did – with me helping. We’re so used to a wonky, grindy, have-to-lift-as-you-shut fridge door it feels really weird having one that works properly. (Metaphor?)

What with a dead freezer, dodgy tap, stained sink (who puts in a white plastic sink?) a few feet from where it would be more convenient, odd bits of work top fill-in, fake fancy (plastic) cupboard doors, MDF twiddly bits I hate, tiles husband hates and so on it must be time to re-do the kitchen. Only been here eleven years muttering about it. Ah well, we do like to take our time. And it works, sort of; and it’s agéd dog’s cosy home; and we live in it. At least the bathroom is done now – and our ensuite: bliss.

Meanwhile, I am reading poems from NaPoWriMo – fascinating mixture of voices, styles, ideas, polish. I have no idea where I fit in but I think this month will probably be messing about with ideas, snippets and practice.

Today’s snippet:

Seagull manager swoops,
loops the loop,
squawks loud and fast,
from beak and arse,
flappity-flap-flap
daps the crap
on those below
who should know
they’re plaice.

(Yes, this week we have yet more pointlessly bloated paperwork to waste time filing to justify some higher echelon’s position – and, yes, I am grumpy about it.)

I’ll be missing at least a couple of days NaPoWriMo at the end of April, too, as I shall be off to the wilds of the river Wye for a weekend of poetry workshops and inspiration with Jo Bell and Martin Malone at The Garden Café – really looking forward to this.

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4 Responses to Seagull Manager

  1. glitterpoet says:

    I love this. It bounces along and it made me laugh. What’s not to like? Great start to Thursday.

  2. Ron says:

    Nothing like a poem about poop:) As for yesterday’s, I guess I got my wish, as an invisible poem is fluffy indeed.

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