please don't laugh at this insanely inspired poem called -Seeing three pieces of plastic becoming involved in a love triangle with each other

Parked up in a windy empty street, munching.

A black and obviously empty dog shit bag tumbled slowly by.

For whatever brain dead reason I watched its wafting progress in the wing mirror.

Soon it was joined by a little white piece of plastic

and, they seemed quite happy to be rolling along together for a while

but that was until they were joined by another piece of white plastic

bigger than either of them.

The little piece of plastic floated closer to this newcomer

and suddenly they went on their merry gusting way

leaving Mr Blackbag fluttering all alone in a corner.

I stopped looking in the wing mirror since this was all becoming very sad

and instead looked in the rear mirror at my reflection

thinking this was becoming all too mad

especially since tears were welling up in my fucking looney eyes!

( but could she, Little Miss White Plastic have suddenly turned into a racist? )

at that point and fortunately a sensible window in my head opened up

and a voice sounding very much like my own screamed-


which I did momentarily.

But when that window closed and a nut job opened another

I thought ( in terms of pollution) I hope those two don't have kids!

Then it was time to take my, medication that had been prescribed after one week

of being on, WRITE OUT LOUD!

and drive off.



◄ accelerations

girls in the know ►


Profile image

Rose Casserley

Mon 15th Jul 2019 13:48

thank's to every single one of you guys not only for the greatly inspiring and compassionate comments but also for not suggesting I pay a very long visit to a sanitorium.

Of course, I also sharing my gratitude with you guys who have liked

Just one point to hit on and that relates to a part of Jason's comment. Wind, driven, street-play would have made a fabulous title!

And finally because of my opposition, to ignorance, I would like to include your names, being,


thank you.

Rose ?

Profile image

Jemima Jones

Sat 13th Jul 2019 11:24

Rose, while thinking that you may have intended this poem to be humorous you have as the other comments suggest exposed a very deep sensitive part of yourself, one I have seen so many times in a lot of your previous poems. A great gift which I am more than convinced will come to the fore many more times in the future. I hope the medication was of the fictional kind. Thank you. Jemima.

Profile image

Don Matthews

Sat 13th Jul 2019 11:06

This would be funny if it wasn't real....I'm not laughing.

Profile image

John Andrew Nield

Sat 13th Jul 2019 09:44

Love this one, Rose. Such an imaginative 'mental meander' ....and an entertaining moment's journey ! Thanks for that.

Profile image

Lisa C Bassignani

Fri 12th Jul 2019 17:18

Great read Rose!

Profile image

Jason Bayliss

Fri 12th Jul 2019 16:01

I can actually, totally see where you're coming from. I love the fact that the relationship between these toxic little plastic actors in this wind driven street play made you cry a little. That, in my book, is a quality you should always be deeply proud of because a lot of people these days would be way too, "Busy," to see the metaphor.

And that's why you can inspire smiles and tears in a poem about a dog shit bag.

J. x

Profile image


Fri 12th Jul 2019 15:46

two things Rose, I'm wondering if you are on the same meds as me and secondly I better take mine at the right time otherwise I'll end up writing poems like this ?

but hey, make the most of any bizarre situ I say. Run it up the poetry flagpole and with a bit of luck it might catch the same wind as those two plastic bag backstabbers ? omg! I better get my meds down--

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message