Tuesday Poem


When I turned twenty

I thought the world could be changed

like a pair of jeans, a little dirty

at the knees, fraying at simple seams.

Emergent detergent left

the great unwashed.


Thirty, I decided to be a lawyer

who’d unmask justice,

let her see into dark corners

with right vision goggles.

I stand convicted

of blank stupidity.


At forty, I realised

I’d better decide what I’d be

when I grew up.

Too late for Wimbledon,

I made a poetic racket,

served and volleyed

just inside the lines.


I’m still following through.

P.S. Cottier

This poem appeared in my first collection of poetry called The Glass Violin, launched in February 2009.  I will be posting a poem on this blog every Tuesday from now on, either my own or someone else’s, as part of a group of poets who try to do the same thing.  Most of the poets are from New Zealand, with a sprinkling of Americans, a seasoning of Italians, and a shake of Australians.  If you would like to check out the other poems, click on the quill above, or here. That will take you to the Tuesday Poet hub.

Update: I brilliantly managed to post this on Monday, not Tuesday, but hopefully, by next week I’ll get that right.