Poetry or football?
He was going
to make some poetry
He stood staring
hand on chin/mouth
studiously thinking
about
What he would say
Anyway
he went on his way
To his little room
and banged some keys
Producing
and reproducing
Letters words and phrases
on pages
Pacing himself
in semi-rush
with pauses
Contemplations
and elations
liking some – hating most
Stopped for Sunday roast
Climbed back into that chair
the one with the spare
neck brace
Was a bit of a disgrace
he couldn’t keep up the pace
And got lazy
And wrote no more
Out the door
onto the grass for
a kick-about
seedsinmotiontruthnart 