Editor Christopher Writes – #PoemADayForAYear: 07 & 08/07/15

07/07/15

Here is a poem.

Sometimes I wonder why I like tennis.

It’s just a couple of folks hitting

a ball at each with a springy

stick other over a net.

They say the aim is to get the ball

past each other but, watching it,

they don’t always seem to try very hard.

They always wear white too – just not

an interesting colour. They spend

hours hitting the ball back and forth.

It just all seems a bit futile.

Then again, break any sport down

into its fundamentals and they all seem futile.

Football – some folks kicking a ball up

and down some grass, trying to get it

into a fishing net they probably found.

Rugby – some folks carrying a ball up

and down some grass, trying to get it

under a giant H and hug each other.

Cricket – middle class masturbation,

though not quite as wanky as polo.

I suppose in other sports they wear colour

so it’s a little more interesting.

In tennis they must be pretty soft

as well, because they always stop

playing when it starts raining.

They don’t do that in other sports.

Despite it all, I do actually like tennis.

There’s just, something about it.

One improvement I would make though,

above all else. Add tigers.

In what capacity it doesn’t matter,

just use them.

08/07/15

Here is a poem. The prompt is ‘dark streets’ from #MadVerse.

Dark streets growl with life –

the puddles that spit and ambush,

neon signs winking illicit joys,

grubby hands that pillage pockets.

I’m feeling generous, have another one. The prompt is ‘poisonberry’ from #FieryVerse.

No berry poisons like

the poisonberry can.

The poisonberry even

poisons berries when it can.

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