Poet Authority Poem Terminal

Resting atop the cardboard tube,

So it did not need replacing.

Someone died.

The posts on social media were all so tragic.

Frank was struggling to one up them.

To make his the saddest of all.

To explain how he was suffering the most.

How painful it was for him.

And combed his hair back.

And learned a new walk.

And tripped over a kerb.

He wandered through the trees,

Complaining the floors were dirty.

He left a review saying the floors were dirty,

Giving it one star.

He left the device in the middle of the room,

Proof that he'd done something.

Fern spent the next month walking around it.

Waiting for him to put it away.

Once planted he noticed there was no cup of tea.

He thought about having to get up again.

Harold was not getting up again.

He turned on the television and had a nap.

He took command of it during arguments with his wife.

This did nothing to improve the situation.

Got caught loading up the river.

Some officials told him off.

Struck his achievements from the record books.

Arrived just in time,

For their mother to die in their arms.

The main character,

Arrived just in time,

For their father to die in their arms.

The main character,

Arrived just in time,

For their partner to die in their arms.

The main character,

Arrived just in time,

For their sibling to die in their arms.

The main character,

Arrived just in time,

For their pet to die in their arms.

And they all cried.

He enjoyed it.

Felt at home.

He sourced a musty old armchair.

Settled in for the rest of his life.

Andrew got lost in a book.

He searched for the exit.

Tripped over an i.

Became impaled on a k.

Encouraging them to adopt later opening hours.

She cut out her husband's tongue.

Grafted it between the robot's metal lips.

And informed her husband his services were no longer required.

Ending up posting key intel to his enemies.

And a birthday card to his boss back home.

Her hair became angry.

It started snapping at her nose and ears.

Security strip searched him on entry and offered him a potato sack to wear while he shopped.

It was uncomfortable,

A rough and itchy fabric.

He picked up his cheddar cheese and sausages and an extravagant loaf of bread.

A man with a gun waited at the checkout.

He felt the barrel push against the back of his head as he completed his transaction.

He forgot all about that and later pulled the trigger as a joke.

People got very angry.

Some of them complained about their ears hurting.

And another one was leaking.

He didn't look particularly pleased about it.

He rinsed the little plastic bowl he ate from and went about his day.

He smiled thinking about those thoughts.

He complained.

He hated camping.

It wasn't his thing.

Why had he done this to himself?

Why had he entered this damn competition?