where now

Caesar knew of this

where now

I stop to look

see if I can see

the kingfisher

fronds wailing in the water

flies hovering the shine

minnows tight to the bank

he would know

the same as I do

this river is not the same

as the one I played along

& in

as a child

yet it is the same

& ever will be

so

Poet?

wha’da you do all day?

sit & polish fat words?

& the way he said that

yeah he was thinkin’ fat turds

cos that’s what poetry is all about

rhyming stinking blurbs all day

he got taught that in school

poetry gotta rhyme

& I gently tell him

Caesar

riding his chariot into Rome

heading the victory parade

had a fella stood just behind

whispering

remember you are not a god

but just a man

& that my friend

is what poets do

all day