Friday, November 4, 2011


Many early mornings I had lain awake
In tasteful dreams
Of kneading and caressing, smooth and supple, as it were,
Luring me afoot well before God's hour
Down the dark and sparkly alleyway;
I'd stealthily shiver past shattered glass rivers
And bus stops disguised as bedrooms.
I'd nervously knock and wait for shuffling;
A groggy good morning or nothing
But quick, darty eyes full of what?
Shrug, shrug it off and back to the senses
Flooded with butter and other
Scents that hold on tightly and don't let go
Like your grandmother's last hug
Or an illicit lover's gaze.
Drawn in, I absorbed it all
Every last drop, straight to the heart
I lapped it up and begged for more,
But the maddening elixir
Grew more bitter every brew
And spurned me, red-eyed, flailing into frenzy
For some balancing flavor,
The one magical, smoothing, soothing
Addition or subtraction to turn it all back
Into the the bearable, presentable, enjoyable
Treat it would never be again.