Sunday, November 27, 2011


(Pre-Script: This poem is best served up as the songs, "The Other Side Of The World," #32 on the playlist, then "Arms," #29 on the playlist, play in the background. Go down to the playlist, click on those songs in that order, then come back and resume reading. I'll wait...)(...still waiting...)

Your meal was savored succulence; I
tasted salt, I tasted sweet, I tasted
cohesive blends of waterfowl.
I was satiated, I wanted more.
I was full and happy and nappy and then
the table was cleared, utensils washed, put away
full cupboards wiped down and closed
the table bore not a crumb
the peasant ate pheasant and all
was not satisfied, she wondered,
so many things did she wonder.
(and if you are ever serving again, she will
order off of the menu, straight off of the bone)


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