A Poem About Nothing

This is a piece about nothing at all. 

It’s not about llamas or people called Paul. 

It’s not about flotsam, or fishsticks, or owls;

it’s not about liquorice, lobsters or towels.

This poem, I tell you, is merely a void. 

To search for a meaning would make you annoyed. 

It’s not about clowns doing backflips in Chad;

it’s not about monsters who look like your dad.

It’s not about jelly, or bottoms, or squid,

or broccoli, banjos, Macau or Madrid.

It’s not about pineapples pinned to a wall – 

See, this is a piece about nothing at all.

Joshua Seigal