* * *
Proposing a vantage to our existence,
Ill of the grandiose proclamations, I find
No naturally simple structure.
Know? You don’t. You beg the
Charismatic to throw you, the
Hungry, a thought to chew
On. Spit it.
Collect the following in your core.
‘Omelet’ is spelled with one
‘L’ and one ‘T’. Breaking
An egg is required.
Two slices of peaches
Engulfed in sweet ooze, the
Bruised pomegranate spewed out.
Red is preferred with the
Escargot. Think of being eaten
At your girlfriend’s house. Chase the
Swallow with the wine that ended moth’s quest.
To find the peace within, I
Seek…
* * *
Oct. 15, 2003