Tuesday, 13 February 2018

Tick Tock


There is so much blah
gif, banter, gif
And the clock is getting ruder
tick, Tick, TICK

No, not that clock
Fuck that forever
Heaped pressures of the pack
That game is crap

On a bloody drum
This clock beats days
It counts us down
To the final gun

RF 2018

Here's a poem, a new poem. It has a swear word in it for which I make no apology. I don't use swear words in poems very much but that is probably mostly due to the fact that I have been raising a child for the past 17 or so years and most of us use fewer swear words around children (and when you do that those words sort of drop out of your vocabulary for a while). But that child is very nearly 18... so the language is relaxing a little more every day. And sometimes a swear word is just the one you are looking for.

I have also been using more punctuation in poems in the past few years but I often find it infuriating so I was glad to ditch it (or take a holiday from it anyway) for this poem. I make no apology for that either. 


Scott Henriksen said...

Fucking marvellous, period.

hope said...

She CAN'T be that old yet!?! Poem echoes how I feel most days after reading the news. I'm glad I have good people like you in my life to counteract all that crap.

Rachel Fox said...

Thanks for reading.