A poem can change the colour of her hair
And dress up kinda tarty;
A poem can wear an unfashionable hat
And push a bomb in a basket.
A poem can make you believe she’s a song
Crooned by some pretty kid;
A poem can paint himself on a wall
And be worth four million quid.
A poem can spill out her heart on the news –
Doesn’t have no help, no food;
A poem can wade to you from a boat
With all his children drowned.
A poem can bloom in the middle of the road
Or climb up your garden wall;
She can build a nest in your guttering
Or be anything at all.