Sunday, 21 August 2011


Contemplation – or...

Squeezing one out when pissed

In private moments,
when well fuelled with figs
and other such fibrous delicacies,
a trip to the bathroom can be a pleasure.

Indecorous though it may sound,
poetry is well suited to the smallest room.
There’s peace and quiet and usually a lock
to fend off unwanted interruptions.
I mean, who’d want cutting off mid push/verse?
Your average poem lasts about the right time
with a little left over for silent contemplation.
If it’s a stinker, spare paper can be useful.


There are moments,
when the call comes,
and taking all into consideration,
it’s not a welcome announcement.

Such as.

Following four days
of heavy drinking.
And you’re in the pub.
And to top it all,
There’s someone at the urinal.
I say listening,
More like noticing.
And your unintended partner in evacuation
provides some commentary.

It’s unlikely to provide for a happy conclusion
to your business.

What’s left in the breach
(so to speak)
can be taken home for poetic contemplation.

Phil usually writes prose, but when no-one is looking, he occasionally tries his hand at poetry. This site seemed like a great depository for this one.
He lives and works in Bolton and in his spare time, co-edits Prole, Poetry and Prose