Charlotte Ballard


Poem by Charlotte Ballard

Poetry is nonsense.
Yet I pass it around
As if it was the
Finest caviar
Being served to
Impatient guests
At an outdoor summer part.

My poetry is more like
Hamburger that has gone
Slightly bad
And only fit
To be slid into the
Garbage can
This time and the next.

Comments about Garbage by Charlotte Ballard

  • Ernestine NorthoverErnestine Northover (9/18/2005 1:46:00 PM)

    Now I wouldn't say that at all. It's very refreshing poetry. Sincerely Ernestine Northover(Report)Reply

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Read poems about / on: poetry, summer, time

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Poem Edited: Monday, November 3, 2008