Ten new poems


‘I’ve got some good news,’ the book says. ‘I’ve just written ten new poems.’

‘Wow, that’s great,’ I say. ‘Are they any good?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, are they any good? Are they doing something, saying something, in a new way? Should I be bothered with them?’

‘But they’re new poems! They’re great. They’re going to be. They’re new poems!’

‘New isn’t the same as good.’

‘But I’ve just written them.’

‘I know. I know. But we’ll have to see. They might be great. But they might be rubbish.’

‘But they’re new. New. New poems. I wrote them really quickly, in a kind of burst. I thought you might be pleased.’

‘I am pleased. Genuinely. Really I am. But we can’t say much at the moment, can we? You might have been just producing. Or treading water. Or writing sheer balls of course. We won’t really know for while. That’s the way it goes.’

‘But they’re new. New poems. I thought you would be excited.’


  1. OH dear oh dear. So far you have been spared but now, as a direct result of reading this, you and the book are about to receive a copy of my new and exciting book and I’m hoping you will turn not to page 54, as you otherwise might, but to page 57. Watch the post.

    Liked by 1 person

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