I’ve been checking and there’s some things
that you’re not allowed to write about anymore.
Some of them are listed but you can let me know
what to add to this list in the comments below.
For instance, don’t tell me about
the crone finger crescent fists of waves
silver and gold in the sunlight
crashing down on glittered beaches.
You also mustn’t tell me about
the bobbing boat rocking further out into the bay,
worn men heaving worn nets,
their knees anticipating the swell, so well.
I also can’t read about the eruption of spring’s clouds
bouncing the shine from leave to petal
before parting and coating the film of my eyes,
and over exposing everything against my skin.
We shouldn’t spend any time on the grit of the city’s street
or the smoothness of its metropole people
the rumbling of industry and expectation
and certainly not the leering neon of its night time.
It might be safer not to mention anything like a musical note
getting stuck beneath the collar of your shirt,
a drum beating deep in your gut
or a double-bass’s boom dripping from your eyes.
All of these things, you see, were much described before.
So now there are no more lines to be had
everything we write must be new, be it good or bad.
Tell me then, of what else can we not write anymore?