Boating Lycra
That porcupine trick
just daring you to pet me
and then starting to flinch
and then before you know it
prick
I’m a fast learner
You want everything to be normal
I need to get back into my snazzy clothes
all this laughing you’re doing or not doing
It’s obscene
the one who roasts other poets
I wish my childhood was a
Dish of the Day
not really
I basically can’t think of a poet
I don’t like
except
and
and
and
and
and
and
and
and
and
Just kidding
best is my least favourite word
cutesy-mushy
I drew a picture of my brains
to scare you
we had this discussion at work
about vomiting and what it means
and our unanimous unhappiness
about the expression “to leak”
I’m ok with “take a” but not enough
to tell everyone
Table D’Hote
The table is rectangular but seethrough
And everybody touches knees under it.
The weight of an ab crunch,
On everybody’s lips.
The autocorrect disaster of your heart,
Musters a toasty yearn.
Praise poem for sitting alone in a car
Wondering why you’re not outside it already.
Never write a funny poem ever again.
Funny poems suck! This is the worm moon talking
Autocorrecting to work. But
The worm moon sleep talk says:
I love to love poetry. I love to love poetry.
You love poetry? I love you too.
The table is sloping so that people
At one end don’t get anything and more
Than anyone could ever need or want
Constantly slides off the contented –
-actually-malcontent side. I’m not
Demonising worms in this poem. The best thing
About worms is probably something about
What they do to the soil. I’m on strike from
Research too in case you hadn’t noticed.
The people at the end with everything
Are in hysterical gluttonous uproar. The table isn’t
a table but it is seethrough, hiding in plain sight.
Take a video following me around an art gallery
or a library without me knowing.
Colin Herd is a poet and Lecturer in Creative Writing at University of Glasgow. His books include Glovebox (2013), Click & Collect (2017), Swamp Kiss (2018) and You Name It (2019).
