I used to write poetry

I used to write poetry
on the backs of paper scraps
at train stations
waiting for the 12.38am
after missing the 12.01.

I used to map words around
those already written down –
words I didn’t know the meanings of
sourced from books I liked.

I’d leave the scraps to accumulate
in my handbag, until
inside looked like a graveyard
of unrealised dreams.

I wrote to fill the gap

between now

and waiting for my lover to call

and say he’d save me
from the public transport experience.

But I don’t need to write poetry now,
because I drive a car and listen to commercial radio.

By Jodie McLeod


I just found this poem while sifting through old files… made me think – everyone must have something they used to do that they’ve put aside to make room for Life in General. What’s your thing? And are you going to bring it back?


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