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Literature Text
I am ecru trimmed with gold
and your laughter burns my eyes-
though the onions
probably contribute-
and I wish that you would go away
and let me make this damned soup
in peace
and set the table
in ecru trimmed with gold, fine china
ready to receive a broth of carrots
and celery, all dressed up
for the mundane, the vulgar
Trapping bay leaves with a slotted spoon
ecru trimmed with gold
shattered on the kitchen floor.
Trying out this Stash thing.
I don't think that I like it.
I don't think that I like it.
© 2011 - 2024 QuiEstInLiteris
Comments27
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What a lovely metaphor! This is great