What is the point of it?

What is the point of it?

The commonplace, the mundane

Wallpaper music?

There are public toilets

With pages of old newspapers

Pasted to the walls

In addition to these editions

With iconic headlines

At eye height,

Whilst ne'er do wells

Urinate on their own shoes

To a backing track

Of a walking blues,

They make a feature of graffiti

Look what happened to Banksy

His walls are displayed

On other people’s walls

I hope they grasp the irony

Beethoven wasn’t totally deaf

Until after the ninth

Perhaps the seventh was a bowel movement

Is it sacrilegious to question

The motives of masters

Is it not poetry if it doesn’t have balls

Fit to drop

A killer line of prose

Enough to curl the toes

Give a kick in the teeth

With no half measures

A profanity

Delivered from the back of the throat

Covered in the phlegm of

An indigestible half truth

Must a poem break down the layers

Of indifference

Crack a tear from granite

Mend a broken heart

Is there any point to it?

Mowing the lawn

Is a necessary evil

But other than Larkin

And Fahey who cares

About the lawnmower man

Unless somebody is laundering money

Nobody bothers about household chores

Where would the world be

Without the vomit of half-spilled words

We find hard to stomach

Being cleaned up and re-purposed

Perhaps there is more to be learned

From a hedgehog

Sporting short back and sides

Than meets the eye.

Blood can be spilt

In so many ways

Without ever needing to step out

Of the kitchen.