Poet Authority Poem Terminal

Pushed his way towards a wall.

The perfect view of the stage.

He would lean there for the next four hours.

Hissing at anyone who came near him.

This was his wall.

She perched on her sofa.

Fondled a straw donkey.

Stared at clogs.

Her mind racing.

Concocting fascinating stories for their countries of origin.

She slumped back into her Peruvian pillows.

Soon guests would be invited.

Parties would be timed with Lidl's themed weeks.

He demanded his roommate turn the Winter Olympics off.

He couldn't cope with all of that ice on display.

He insisted he could feel the cold spilling from the television.

'I can feel it Jen!'

Jub was on his knees.

Fingers jutting towards the speakers.

Engaged in a brief excursion with ice skating.

He didn't enjoy it.

He thought his blood looked bad on the ice.

He stared in the mirror.

Naked.

Indecisive.

There was no other option.

After some experience with the device he learned to utilise the wheel.

Ben enjoyed pushing the container.

Confidence grew.

He filled it with soil.

Found busy streets.

Pushed through crowds of people.

He imagined the conversations sparked.

The debates surrounding the contents of his garden.

Ben liked this.

He liked people thinking he had a garden.

His excuse that he was 'doing quality checks' started to wear thin.

Eventually the police arrived.

Jim tried to bribe them with chocolate bars.

This would be used against him.

The next six months were spent glued to his phone.

The family went ignored.

He pawed at the screen.

Desperately trying to block every recommendation that popped up.

They discussed their favourite books.

Gerry was nearing the front of the line.

His anxiety grew.

He was beginning to doubt his choice.

Where's Wally didn't seem like it was going to be a good fit here.

He imagined the butterfly flying.

And flowers.

A bit of a breeze.

The butterfly weaving its way through flowers.

And a gentle breeze.

He imagined some sort of message.

He plugged them all in.

Shovelled in the bread.

Cranked down the little lever things.

And declared peak efficiency.

Soon after Percy had a breakdown whilst buttering.

Thomas loaded his neighbour's garden with slugs.

A few days later he put on his finest trousers.

Went over and knocked on her door.

Enquired as to any slug problems.

Asked if she'd like any help dealing with them.

His family charged on to celebrate.

He died in the crush.

The family looked devastated sitting in their brand new automobile.

Took his talents to the streets.

He returned home to a wife malnourished.

And no dinner prepared.

Found it in his body.

Got a bit dejected.

Cheered himself up with a bar of chocolate.

Bought a tote bag.

He then went to the other iconic book shops.

More tote bags were acquired.

The original tote bag came in useful.

He gathered the family. 

Slapped on some Meat Loaf.

Then, when the chorus hit,

Worked his triangle like a pro.

In fact,

He committed to it.

He texted all of his friends.

Told them all about his goal.

Let them know how at ease he was with this.

Ordered some extra large clothes.

Deliverooed 40 Mars Bars from the local supermarket.

Out of her guests referred to it as 'puddle food'.

Miriam did not like this.

She threw the soup over his head.

Asked whether puddles were typically that hot.

Really really deep sniffs.

A baguette flew up his nose.

Got stuck.

He waddled around Marks and Spencer looking a bit like an elephant.