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Paul Sutton

How to understand innovative poetry

I've had as much as I can take from you bastards.
So, a list is needed? Then it wasn't so much the 
thryrotoxic thespian's tremulous performances as 
an enormous turd, arriving by courier – "requires
signature" – plus commemorative copy of LBC's
phone-ins, with a sweat-infected shock-jock Job
descanting on Brexit (he rejects it). Some bloke 
is writing poems about piracy and fish-tanks; no
I struggle, whilst today I saw two men (well one)
fisting in a lay-by – oh sorry – that was actually the 
Heimlich manoeuvre. It's odd how much we dream 
of old or new houses – whoever gets one needs to
keep hold tight, also for children, though growing is
difficult – at my school, a boy got ossified – poor sod, 
someone barked at him, one shit put pork chops in
his satchel – boredom not malice perhaps. I hear of 
air that gets breathed (what's next) and although most 
love animals, who can explain donkeys getting eaten;
serial killers working for the Samaritans; podiatrists with 
in growing toe-nails; stuttering speech-therapists; trichologists 
with dandruff; drug-dealing addiction therapists; vicars in devil-stained 
vestments; obese anorexics; dentists with halitosis. monoglot translators; 
tongue-tied windbags; moronic polymaths; degrees in Leisure Studies; 
whispering loudmouths; tremulous tightrope artists; best-selling poets; 
frottaging sex-therapists; dyslexic lexicographers; ticklish beard-tamers; 
lactose intolerant milkmaids; "national treasures"; derivative list poems;
"and now for a longer poem – and now for an even longer one..."



Copyright © Paul Sutton, 2018.