No, not something dredged up from the 1970s, not the product of a teenager, fresh from reading another Richard Brautigan novel.
I wrote this yesterday, just to see if I could.
She said at length, ‘Poetry though,
doesn’t really have to rhyme, you know,
or scan or do anything trite,
it’s raw feelings, emotions and a sense of adventure of which you must write.’
I said, ‘I know,’ and forced a smile,
‘but it makes me happy for a while,
when words fall into place just so,
connotations playing with the rhyming syllables at the end as they go.’