Abora

another poem about sadness and pastries

6/17/19 104AM

 

staring at white water and a super moon

 

my thoughts drifted over ancient foothills

 

where my ancestors likely hunted for subsistence

 

and filled their bellies through work

 

now lay in this lamented moonlight

 

hoping to be mauled

 

my whiskey is sweeter for every person I’ve dedicated it to

 

you so undeservedly take my foul nightmares

 

and others even less real shanghai my daydreams

 

someone out there is making a lemon tart

 

with wispy cream, and sacrosanct citrus jelly, with a hint of mint

 

crumbled, airy crust with space in between for air

 

to let it all breathe

 

and i sit here clad in graphite

Comments3

  • Neville

    I really enjoyed these words...

    Neville

  • ANGELA & BRIAN

    HI BS : ANGELA here from New Zealand (I*m on a Work Exchange). Its 10:30 pm here and time for bed after a hard days work in the CLINIC (Im a PHYSIOTERRORIST !) Love NEW YORK STATE especially in the Fall ! Love the STRUCTURE & SUBSTANCE of your elegant Poem and the oblique references to : Your Ancestors - Whiskey - Lemon Tart with a crumbly crust & wispy cream & sacrosant citrus mint jelly ! Of such things are dreams made. Be glad you*re filled with GRAPHITE which is a lubricant : and not CARBONS other allotrope DIAMOND which would surely grind you to a halt !

    BLESSINGS & Peace & Joy
    Yours ANGELA !
    Please check my Poem on POSITIVITY ~ Thanks A !

  • dusk arising

    I am picturing you writing this in a pleasant whiskey augmented aura when upon the breeze u catch a scent which turns your mind to lemon tart.
    The graphite has me puzzled i admit.



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