Poem, Injury, Cleverness, Not So Clever, Food
Fire Oil
May 30, 2023
if cussing were profundity
then by the dozen daily, hourly
I’d speak a fount of wisdom
alas, instead, this fire oil
freshly simmered, peppers swimming
I’ve poured right down my trousers
and were it clever to declaim
then by my name and by my screaming
truly I would, of excess pain
be verified as vast of mind
be verified indeed as born of seeds
or at least of lung capacity
* * *
from Wetdryvac https://ift.tt/zGgEmsP
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