Feast: Words

Keys grinding a stiff lock
Late night jangling
Keep me in a sort of
“Bookish dark” as I feast my soul
On Words.

Imagery, allusion, illusion
Bleeding from my mouth’s corners
Keep me Hydrated.
Emotional condensation
Links me to cerebral cortex

Who knows what dawn will bring?
Cream puff plate’s light promises
Caught by grit
A coffee pot nearly empty
Sandy grinds of
Rational conversation, evaluation, resolution.

But tonight, starving,
Language’s Absurdity
Fluidity, Treachery
Fill me fatly.

Inner thigh cellulose
Beads of Idle energy laying loose
Mottled excess
Make me Whole
Rip me apart.



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