Where do poems come from? The child asked as I put my pen away.
They come from wherever, I replied closing the notebook I had been writing in.
Doesn’t that place exist? Again it enquired.
What do you mean? I aimed in.
Wherever isn’t a place, sure that’s what my mammy said. There’s no such place. Are you a liar?
Not in the slightest. Your mammy is right, there is no such place as wherever. In the physical sense.
Fizzical? Sure you’re hardly telling me that poems have something to do with fizzy orange and coke? Or sour dummies?