Sometimes I think my mind <br />is a bit like a builder's yard. <br />With portions of poems <br />phrases and words <br />Scattered all over the place. <br /> <br />There is ‘voluptuous’ <br />sitting up there on the shelf <br />(Like two tongues in one mouth) <br /> <br />Then there’s <br />vitalise <br />and realise <br />vacillate and vomit. <br />Vivacious and vicarious <br />gregarious and comic. <br /> <br />Where jocular avuncular <br />evangels the egregious <br />And the asinine assassinate <br />the sons of Bognor Regis. <br /> <br />Where Chlamydia gets the regard <br />a sound like that deserves. <br />And it’s de rigeur <br />to dismember <br />the sound from <br />the meaning <br /> <br />I have here behind the door, <br />A long and profound question. <br />It does ’t fit, it doesn’t rhyme <br />and I don’t know the answer. <br /> <br />Last week I dragged it out <br />and stuck it on the far end <br />of a half finished poem. <br />Chipping and clipping <br />pushing syllables into the gaps. <br /> <br />It sort of worked so I sent it out. <br />Alas and alack and later <br />I had to go out and bring it back <br />Saying 'sorry' to the reader. <br /> <br />In the end I hung it above the back door.<br /><br />Sean Joyce<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poem-builder-s-yard/