The next station is Stratford

(20 minute poetry)

Twenty minutes,
right?
Twenty minutes to think of and write on this iPhone a poem,
right?

I do this each night when I’m here underground.
It’s easy to block out the sounds of commuters who like me have found some way of setting themselves free.

I write and to me it’s cathartic to pick up the phone, write my life in a poem and post it and the most it can do is piss people off so I chance it.

Twenty minutes
right,
twenty minutes of my life a night,
that doesn’t seem much to me, to write a twenty minute autobiography and call it a poem.

Usually at Liverpool street I get cold feet and want to delete what is there, but then I just share and I really don’t care if anyone likes it or not.

Anyways everyone’s got twenty minutes to spare and with my share of time I
write poetry.

© 2015, John Smallshaw.