I used to think that I was okay at poetry, but the more I write for this course the more unhappy I am with my writing.  A friend of mine says that perhaps it’s because I’m learning more about poetry meaning that I am more aware of my failings as a poet.

I don’t know about that, but I did write a poem that I don’t think is entirely terrible today, so I thought I’d share it.


He, with his dog, was there again;

By the park

Where the children play.


She, with her camera, was ready now;

In the window

Overlooking the park.


Her, with his picture, on the internet

Branding the man

The enemy of the neighbourhood.


Him, and his friends, defending the man

From the white woman

On a middle-class mission.


Their neighbours, with their laughter, over curry;

Discussing the man

And the woman and the dog poop drama.