It’s hard to find a funny poet – it seems that the vast majority of us are doomed to sit around bemoaning the sad state of the world as it is/was/always will be. It’s even harder to find someone who can be funny without being either superficial or depressing. But somehow, despite the many ways the world has changed for the worse in the four years since My Family and Other Superheroes, Jonathan Edwards has done it: he’s got me laughing again. Continue reading
Do you think she stands there just because she can;
To feel the pulling wind of soon arriving trains
Balancing the tightrope of the platforms edge
As she sways to the echoed vibrations?
A two hundred and fifty year old bridge
gone. Destroyed in a winter’s afternoon,
by the torrent pouring off from the ridge,
the lake rising rapidly in the monsoon,
I dread the poem I shall one day write
To read to those who knew you, knew your heart,
The kindness of your soul.
Its rhymes are phantoms in my mind;
is not a period
but it’s funny how the homograph is used in this way—to shut things down, as a period (.) is the end of a sentence, the shut down of conversation, a period as it seems to be also does this too whenever a girl has one,
Some days I think I might have been a witch.
I have the temperament for one – brooding, meticulous,
able to whip up a potion as easily as winking
in the rusted cauldron that hangs over my firepit,
chattering in the background like an old housewife.
They’d come to my cottage (of course it would be a cottage)
and track mud all over my freshly scrubbed floors
and ask me to fix any number of ills.