New Lines Poem by Terry Donovan

They sold haikus at the market,
Two pounds each or three for five,
(They'd been freshly picked that morning
But were barely still alive) .

And little pots of haiku food
With each they gave away
With instructions for beginners,
Two small ladders and a tray.

They were selling them like hot cakes
(How the hot cake sellers moaned) ,
People kept on turning up
Who'd obviously been phoned.

Luckily I got in first
And so I had the pick,
I turned them over one by one
With a winkle-picker's stick.

A line stretched out behind me
And people from the Pru
Had popped out on their tea break
To join the haiku queue.

I paid the man and passed along
To the fellow selling foam
And bought a pair of pelicans
That match my garden gnome.