I redraft my latest unfinished sentence
on the walls of the library.
Orange crayons are my favourite writing implement,
or is it utensil? (or is it implement?)
Picasso claimed his artistic ambition
was to paint like a child
(he never quite scaled those heights,
in my humble/ignorant opinion).
I tried this as a poet, but when you’re limited
to monosyllabic words, mainly misspelt,
then you end up sounding as competent
as an Instagram poet (well, I say poet).
Writing in orange crayon
is my way of compromising
with my inner childpoet
(neologism dictionary compilers
please take note).