Yes, you didn't know you wanted it but you do!
It's the POETRY POSTCARD, popping into your postbox from your friendly postman.
No it's not junk, think of it as a medium-size cake you can put on your kitchen table and admire, impressing all your neighbours as they pass by your kitchen window, wondering what kind person brought you such a brilliant cake and thinking they might even do the same, thus adding to the sum total of human happiness. There will be one, only one, poem, because one is easier to love. And remember- you'll feel good afterwards because there are no hidden nasties, just wholesome, fresh ingredients! (well all right, words)

And you can carry it around, like a postcard!
Hopefully this is just the first of many  POETRY POSTCARDS from the POETRY POSTMAN! (time to shut up)

Going Out.

You stand in the murk of the hallway,
handing me pairs of shoes. I’m expected
to choose but it’s much too dark,

the colour choices stark. They’re like
crocodiles who poke their noses
from the swamp, their crooked rows

of dentures below the waterline,
their mirthless, sickening grin. I’ll take
whatever I’m given, I say. From the

 

shoe cupboard’s tangled mangrove,

the hollowed-out trunks of the shoes

emerge like reluctant canoes.

Right, I say to settle it, these’ll
do. With the hooks of my fingers,
I throw them down in the hall light’s

uneven hull like a landed catch,
finding my feet in the gloaming.
They’re like phosphorescence, glowing.

_{©PoetryPostcard16}