Missing Breakfast

I read somewhere that the poet Gavin Ewart used to write a poem first thing every day. The main themes of his work were sex and death. I think that writing a poem when  you get up is a fine idea, but I am not sure that sex and death would be uppermost in my mind at that time- breakfast would be. For the same reason, I think that anything I write first thing is going to be short…

This is called

              Missing Breakfast

At breakfast time I was so deep in Yeats

That I ate without knowing what I ate

And only when I saw the empty plate

Did I roll my tongue around my mouth and taste

What I had eaten.


                    It’s food, not verse, that fills your belly

                    You don’t shop for  Dante, or Dryden,  in the deli.


This is a poem with a message:

No matter what these poems presage-

Eat your breakfast.

Don’t sell your mess of pottage for a birthright;

However well you think that Wordsworth writes,

Eat your breakfast.

I bet the painter Francis Bacon 

Didn’t paint while eating eggs and bacon

Although, now I think of it,

The people in his paintings

Somewhat resemble rashers of bacon,

So perhaps he was thinking of it;

And his work still makes a handsome profit…

But hey, what of it-

My message is…my, my, this coffee’s good

Message is…I’ll get back to you after my food


Well, that turned out rather silly.

Tomorrow is World Poetry Day. It was UNESCO who designated March 21st as World Poetry Day. The website points out that this is not a public holiday.

I shall write something about sex and death, probably after I have eaten breakfast.












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