What is poetry?
it’s when I’m inspired to reflect
on things I see around me
observation of sorts
for example,
Why does this beautiful lady
sitting next to me on the bus have a Prada bag?
if she has a Prada bag doesn’t she own a car?
is her Porsche in the garage, broken down?
maybe she has no car?
those posh bags cost a fortune
maybe she had to choose between the two?
then I start questioning…
why don’t I have a posh bag?
Well, poets don’t need luxuries?
It doesn’t matter what your bag is called right?
so just when I\'m answering my own questions
the ugliest little dog pokes his head out
from under the loose sparkly zip
it’s a Chihuahua
my mind is now in overdrive…
why on earth would any woman spend that much money on a handbag?
only to have it filled up with dog shit?