Poetry

There are sydney uni prizes. Cash prizes. There's a poetry one, named after Henry Lawson. It's called the Pete Babcock poetry prize. I decided I'd enter, and then realised I cannot write poetry.

Attempt #1

For the fourth time
flitting by
a rat with wings
began to smile
We exhale, seal lips.
Deep inside its cooing chest
A baby pidg’ resides in breast.
Its mother dies and so does it.
You know what? I don’t give a sheet.