In the Dictionary of
Collective Nouns

An error of English teachers frolicked
with a frigate of immigrants,
egged on by a barrel of publicans.

Predictably there was a zoo
of party animals careening
into their future as a puddle of drunks.

Even the divorcees formed a copse,
lining the cemeteries of roads-less-traveled
reciting a Bougainvillea of broken vows.

You could throw a dart anywhere
at the English language
and always hit something to fear.

The margins are littered with pithy warnings:
nouns hit with heavier gloves
than adjectives; strength in numbers

must always be measured against
the cost of a collective consciousness;
colourful seeds often bear dull fruits,

same goes for farmers; the right to die
alone belongs only to the planet;
there is nothing unique in loneliness.

Brian Edwards

If you have any comments on this poem, Brian Edwards would be pleased to hear them.