Substandard

You are just a frustrated writer,
a robot with no imagination.
Desparate to make your mark
with marked-up conversation.

Upper case this and lower case that,
two words, one word, hyphenation.
Images marred by crappy captions,
pissing about with my infomation.

You suck the soul out of every story,
headlines cut and paragraphs chopped.
Rotation of quotations, split and swapped,
I don't pay you to steal the glory .

Additional commas reduce the flow
of copy that doesn't feel real anymore.
Colons arrive and en-dashes go,
synonims replace what was there before.

But phew. Time is up and typos too.
Auto correct means no spellcheck
and no need for someone like you,
a poofreader in the digital era.

You'll be a substandard substitute,
shivering on the literary touchline,
while I'll be stress-free, no more fees.
Credability, creativity will always be mine.

The First of May

Welcome all to the First of May,

I need a brew because it’s another brrrr day.

But I’ve had three cuppas, it’s only midday

and the nearest toilet is miles away.

The sun is trying but the cold wind hinders

any warmth as it blows on all cylinders.

I should be embracing the joys of spring

but my hands are numb, I can’t feel a thing.

I long for home and a powerful heater,

to sip some soup and eat a fajita

but instead I’m a sniffling shivering wreck,

with a Rudolph nose and a pimpled neck.

I expected a breeze, not a full-blown freeze,

a week ago it was 20 degrees.

I shouldn’t need a coat, a hat and scarf.

The First of May? You’re having a laugh.