Monday, November 18, 2013

A Poem from Jamie's Turret

I had a slightly surreal day today. Having skulked about for most of it, I escaped my housemates and headed for my old university halls of residence. Three of my friends, still studying, currently reside there, and late evening found me in one of their rooms, scribbling poetry for The Underground Clown Club's upcoming show. In amongst those, I found half a page to scribble this little ode to my surroundings.

***

Whitewashed walls and an odd, protruding pipe
A scratching pencil and occasional sip
Through the pushed-to door is where the real world lives.

But I know where I am here.
Familiar, though not my own.
A sign on the door reads 'Katie's Nest'
Well, not quite
But a pair of pillows
And the humbuzzing silence
And the knowledge of nearby friends
Will do nicely instead.

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