Zack Holland Poems

Yes, my parents were fishermen’s fishermen
And their parents were fishermen too
And they’d learned over centuries of fishing
That eleven’s too much for a crew.
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In Cologne from the Flora to Zülpicher Square
‘Mongst the traffic and concrete some parrots are there.
They escaped from the zoo
In 2002-
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She cannot help but kick me in the face;
She doesn't mean to do it but she does.
I love her more than stars can ever race-
She cannot help but kick me in the face.
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I've lost so many girls because of wasps;
They make me run away which isn't butch-
O, ignorance doth hail extensive costs!
One stung me just; It did not hurt that much.
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We're walking through the garden in the Spring,
The buds are coming out of all the trees.
The birdies in the bushes start to sing-
The pond water is rippling in the breeze.
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The Sun’s warm lips kissed me
And made my eyes twinkle;
They also made history
And gave me a wrinkle-
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When I was very young
I was hard set
On falling in love with anyone
I could forget
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In north-east Scotland near the coast
The woods a bonny path-way boast
With leaves who nae have seen a man
And trees that herds of deerkin host.
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What a difference it makes to have sunshine-
Though, today I'll be swamped with grey paper;
The sun takes the edge off- I feel fine.
In fact, I would say I feel chipper.
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The kind October night draws in; day eves:
My cheeks are slightly reddened in the lift.
I to my door and briskly flounce my sleeves,
I turn my key and green and amber sift:
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