Poet Authority Poem Terminal

The man grasped the skull.
Delivered his big speech.
Barely knew the thing to be honest.
But he was really going for it.
Slipped his tongue between the skull's gnashers.
Worked them with his muscular organ.
Rolled around in the dirt.
"I love you," he said "I love you old boy!"

Tobias was tired of conforming and tired of his bland possessions
"Things should be unique and visually appealing!" yelled Tobias clutching a book of stickers
Daisy wasn't keen on the idea but just let him get on with it
What really irritated her was when she woke up covered in stickers herself

Donald Trump perched in bed watching television and scrawling on his map
Crayons spilled from his pencil case as he reached for a new colour
He was drawing big walls around the well segregated regions of America
Donald smiled at his picture and stroked it gently
He stared at the television lady and imagined holding it proudly for her in the morning

A bored art critic waddled down the road ranting about galleries being closed
His luxurious new beard kept snagging on his favourite cravat
He graded the children's rainbows and left reviews taped to house windows
He was largely unimpressed by their efforts
Most couldn't even get the colours right

The barista forgot how to make coffee.
She prodded at the buttons and tugged on the tubes and spouts.
She tried to cover herself by speaking in a vague Italian accent.
Her latte art globbed into vague penis shapes.

The comedian walks on stage and plucks the microphone off the stand.
He leans on the microphone stand adopting the comedic stance.
The audience laughs.
He breathes into the microphone.
The audience laughs.
With such a positive reaction he glances around and breathes again.
Everyone's loving it.
He looks forward to a future of panel show appearances.

The eyes followed me around the room.
I didn't trust them.
The gallery was displeased.

A naked woman sat on a picnic blanket or something.
The men with her were not naked which seemed a bit strange.
But women look better naked anyway so it wasn't too much of a big deal.
The grapes and pastries had gone everywhere.

Framed view
Of the world
In the wall
Curtains open
Look outside
See things

A man plays video games.
Sitting in his pyjamas.
Pondering whether he is creating art.
Now he's certain.

The deepest ocean
Is the soul
That catches the tears
We cry

The clouds
Are in
The Sky
It rains