30 poems in 30 days
This is poem eleven, but I’m only a little behind …
12 April 2013
Deficit
When there isn’t much to say
I can be relatively short.
Trying to write every day
has made me think I ought
to do more, though, like working
through times that feel tough.
There’s a voice often lurking
in my head, analysing stuff
that has been said, but
it isn’t all worth repeating,
so those things I’ll cut.
And yet I haven’t been tweeting,
because who is that for?
It’s sometimes like bleating
for space on the floor.
I want more substance and meaning,
in a place without preening;
to share a bigger than bite-size chunk.
If the nation’s new fixation
is achieving amplification
through the art of abbreviation,
when can I spare a thought
for contemplation?