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Clockwork
Shadows come to power - night
settles in. An absence of light
defied by streetlamps and signage.
The window is closed, every sound
silenced by the soft-edged stench
of bleach, mopped...
Loading...
Shadows come to power - night
settles in. An absence of light
defied by streetlamps and signage.
The window is closed, every sound
silenced by the soft-edged stench
of bleach, mopped...
From time to time a poet is in residence at the Poetry Archive, talking about poetry with anyone who wants to join in the conversation.
Comic Verse
I'm troubled, as you can tell by my introduction, about comic verse. Comic verse gets bad press because rigid notions of comedy foreground throwaway poems. Surely the best comedy is when the poem surprises us into laughter rather than setting up t... >