My Name is Codswallop

Advent Poems Day Seven

 

Strapped into the front seat quite mute

Nonetheless managing to convey dismay at being nameless

I drive and ponder nomenclatural possibilities

 

Names slide off my tongue in a boring cascade

Stolen Anglo-Saxon derivatives swirl together

Mingling in a bottomless lake of cold shoulders

 

A bud is a rose is a posy of noses

Sticking like peeping toms into curtained corners

Frankly my dearies, my name is Codswallop

And don’t you forget it!!

 

 

Copyright December 2013

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