A Gardener Poem by Sally Evans

Every poem will have an i.d. card.
Its fingerprints will be taken.
Its iris will be photographed.
It is impossible that we could mistake it for any other poem.
We will know where every poem has been and its history.
We will know how many parking tickets it has had.
We will catch it before it commits a murder.
We will record its proclivities.

A poem will have to fill in a form to exist in the first place.
It will have to acknowledge its nationality
it may not indulge in acts of treason
It may not criticise this wise and powerful government
it may not cross borders.

A poem may not rhyme.
If it sings it will be under suspicion.
It will be published with advice and assistance.
It may be read in the presence of approved audiences.
If it is not satisfied with its situation,
it may ask for an appeal hearing
in the presence of ten other poems,
its equivalents.

The last known poem was seen drawing the dole,
though it is whispered that it was secretly working
unofficially as a gardener.