Poetry
Elastic
By Talisker
12 September 2007

A hangover seems to help with the poetic process.

I can't write drunk, but the slightly altered state of a hangover provides the correct level of disassociation and hyper-sensitivity.

On second thoughts, perhaps the word "seems" in the first sentence is the operative one.


Time is elastic.

Pants are too.

 

A day pinches at my hips

leaving a reddened band

embossed on my skin.

 

A week fits loosely,

needs pulling up

around Thursday.

 

A month falls

around my feet

like shed skin.

 

I can bungee jump

on the end of a year.

 

The postman scatters

little red seconds

all around.

 

Oli 12/09/07

 

Reviews
Too right
Written by Josie (4035 comments posted) 12th September 2007
I agree with what you say in your poem. But time is a strange thing. When you are bored it goes so very very slowly and every second is like an hour. I remember jobs I've had where it was like that. You look at the clock and it never moves. When you are interested it goes faster. Strange! I liked your poem and thought it was very funny, especially the bungee jumping. Be careful!

Written by Phil (8763 comments posted) 13th September 2007
I just hope you change your grudders more regularly. :grin  
 
A neat (and amusing) collection of images. The first two lines are such unusual bedmates, they go together perfectly. 
 
Enjoyed. 
 
Phil.

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