A poem for yesterday
Goes like this:
Young, tan, frail, hairless
Broad hips
Perfectly draped sheets
Honey and dates
Rolled in coconut
A light flouring
A dusting of light
Fourteen pounds of peanuts
Stage make-up
A loud grin
Guffaws and glitter
Pralines for clothing
A glossy sheen
The smell of hot oil
And dough
Twisted into shapes
With names like
Pretzel, fritter, and crepe
Cloth as a sacrament
A band of dirty troubadours
As a holy order
A belief in powers
All but buried in dirt
Mixed with water and beer
Turned into mud
Sloshed and pounded
Figure eights
And figured sevens
Fives and tens
Twenties and fifties
A good sandwich
A place to rest
Cutting and pasting
Wasting no time
Leaning back and relaxing
Drawing on a napkin
Handfuls of sugar packets
With nothing but fire to buy
If anything at all
A plan to drift
Never ends
It is stopped
Abruptly
--
3.26.08
Goes like this:
Young, tan, frail, hairless
Broad hips
Perfectly draped sheets
Honey and dates
Rolled in coconut
A light flouring
A dusting of light
Fourteen pounds of peanuts
Stage make-up
A loud grin
Guffaws and glitter
Pralines for clothing
A glossy sheen
The smell of hot oil
And dough
Twisted into shapes
With names like
Pretzel, fritter, and crepe
Cloth as a sacrament
A band of dirty troubadours
As a holy order
A belief in powers
All but buried in dirt
Mixed with water and beer
Turned into mud
Sloshed and pounded
Figure eights
And figured sevens
Fives and tens
Twenties and fifties
A good sandwich
A place to rest
Cutting and pasting
Wasting no time
Leaning back and relaxing
Drawing on a napkin
Handfuls of sugar packets
With nothing but fire to buy
If anything at all
A plan to drift
Never ends
It is stopped
Abruptly
--
3.26.08
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