Putting on my poetry head.

Tomorrow I will put on my poetry head so I can write poems. It will be so easy. My work colleagues have already snapped my working head inside a polypropylene wallet. No emails to be spat out until Monday. My children will sit on my mother head while they’re doing their homework or being driven to the cinema. My driver head knows the way. There is my cooking head spiked onto the radio aerial in the kitchen talking bacon and eggs. Who’s kicked my gardening head out of the patio doors, into the long grass? My husband will hold my wife head in his lap. My weekend shopping head will ride in a supermarket trolley. My cleaning the house head will bob inside the toilet. The neighbours will unlock my smiling neighbour head from their shed and wave as my doing the washing head spins on the rotary dryer. My sisters will telephone my sister head. My nieces will give my auntie head the most likes it’s ever had. And all the time my poetry head will be spewing out poems. It will all be so easy tomorrow when I put on my poetry head.
Russian dolls heads

7 thoughts on “Putting on my poetry head.”

  1. I agree, Ellie. I love the premise and the poem, Josephine!
    At this stage in the summer term, my work head’s taking a cosh to my poetry head – which cannot wait to join forces with my holiday head, locking work head in my classroom cupboard for the duration 🙂


    1. I love everyone saying it’s a poem! Now I see where I’ve been going wrong all these years. I need to write prose or at least think I’m writing prose and then poetry might come out. Thank you Rebecca and Steven! xx


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