Iambic Pedometer

Iambic Pedometer

A Poem by Mark Wollacott

Demand Studios do generate some stupid titles.


Frosted pavements, sunny skies,

DS are sniffing something, blow it,

I can’t believe my eyes,

I’m seeing a power walking poet.


Putting his unstressed foot first,

Then his stressed foot in time,

One after the other, slake my thirst,

All rhythm and internal rhyme.


How many steps has he taken?

Two steps to a quatrain,

If I’m not mistaken.

He’s as fast as Robbie Coltrane.


Hold your horses,

It’s five quatrains to a line.

So in all the world’s courses,

How far is that line?


A foot, a yard?

A meter, a mile?

As far as a shattered shard?

Or Cheshire smile?


Now he’s gone all slow,

Face like a palimpsest,

Checking his pedometer for a mo,

Time for a rhyming couplet.


$15 for this nonsense,

Still, I’m not quitting, hence.

© 2011 Mark Wollacott

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Haha - perfect Wulfy. Apart from maybe split the I'm up to I am? Or is that my weird jazz rhythm getting in the way. Ohhh I like this. It's made me happy. And no, I haven't been drinking.

Posted 12 Years Ago

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1 Review
Added on February 1, 2011
Last Updated on February 1, 2011


Mark Wollacott
Mark Wollacott

Budapest, Cotswold, United Kingdom

I'm a 30 year old writer from the Cotswolds in England. I've had plenty of non-fiction published in Britain, Japan and America but no fiction yet. I'm working on various books, poems and a website. .. more..