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Poetry by Eleanor Farjeon What is Poetry? Who knows? Not a rose, but the scent of the rose; Not the sky, but the light in the sky; Not the fly, but the gleam of the fly; Not the sea, but the sound of the sea; Not myself, but what makes me See, hear, and feel something that prose Cannot: and what it is, who knows. How To Eat a Poem by Eve Merriam Don't be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. It is ready and ripe now, whenever you are. You do not need a knife or fork or spoon or plate or napkin or tablecloth. For there is no core or stem or rind or pit or seed or skin to throw away The Uncertainty of the Poet by Wendy Cope I am a poet. I am very fond of bananas. I am bananas. I am very fond of a poet. I am a poet of bananas. I am very fond. A fond poet of 'I am, I am'Very bananas. Fond of 'Am I bananas? Am I?'-a very poet. Bananas of a poet! Am I fond? Am I very? Poet bananas! I am. I am fond of a 'very.' I am of very fond bananas. Am I a poet? London Airport by Christopher Logue Last night in London Airport I saw a wooden bin labelled UNWANTED LITERATURE IS TO BE PLACED HEREIN. So I wrote a poem and popped it in.