Food 4 Swallow
Sustenance
Nourishment comes in many forms, several ways to feed, get fed, peanut butter and jelly on wheat bread, yellow squash dipped in fermented vinegar, sugar cakes doubling as breakfast, Atlantic Oceanic lobster tail splattered with butter, parading across a plate in full bloom, fried shrimp stuffed mushrooms, rooms filled with cornucopias’ of ripe kiwi, cotton candy sweet pineapple, blackened bananas, Washington apples, quarter-sized grapes and wet seedless watermelon, both red, orange…
Hungry?
Nourishment comes in several forms, many was to fed, needing feeding, conversations which begins when the sun yawns, ending once the moon lays its dreary head down to rest on cumulous clouds, whispers of words dancing up my earlobe, entering my subconscious, hiding like fearful Jews during holocaust, never expecting to surface again until I have total recall, screams of passion during moments where sweat bleeds from skin in cold winter rooms, screams which sound like skipping needless on old 78 LP’s, scratchy, but clear, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,”; talking is foreplay, especially when the listener listens not waiting to respond, but just listens for content, committed to every syllable, each articulation, all thoughts vocalized…
Hungry? Yes.
Nourishment comes in many forms, several ways to feed, get fed, beautiful scents smelling like roses, seductive, reluctant fragrances, perfume, hidden in the crevices women want found during monogamy moments, not back seat adventures, procreation moments when her natural being resembles potpourri, both inside, outside, smelling of pillow cases like his French-cuff shirts during brief lunches, conversation, relations, twice if time is taken, shortly after prayers are given, smells which imprison present memories forever linking them to time, frozen, thawed only by a lover’s nourishment, a confidant’s patience, a friend’s eagerness to spoon the desires of those needing nourishment, empty until fed, empty until seeds are planted, raised, harvested for…
Hungry? No longer!
Nourishment comes in many forms, several ways to feed, get fed, peanut butter and jelly on wheat bread, yellow squash dipped in fermented vinegar, sugar cakes doubling as breakfast, Atlantic Oceanic lobster tail splattered with butter, parading across a plate in full bloom, fried shrimp stuffed mushrooms, rooms filled with cornucopias’ of ripe kiwi, cotton candy sweet pineapple, blackened bananas, Washington apples, quarter-sized grapes and wet seedless watermelon, both red, orange…
Hungry?
Nourishment comes in several forms, many was to fed, needing feeding, conversations which begins when the sun yawns, ending once the moon lays its dreary head down to rest on cumulous clouds, whispers of words dancing up my earlobe, entering my subconscious, hiding like fearful Jews during holocaust, never expecting to surface again until I have total recall, screams of passion during moments where sweat bleeds from skin in cold winter rooms, screams which sound like skipping needless on old 78 LP’s, scratchy, but clear, “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,”; talking is foreplay, especially when the listener listens not waiting to respond, but just listens for content, committed to every syllable, each articulation, all thoughts vocalized…
Hungry? Yes.
Nourishment comes in many forms, several ways to feed, get fed, beautiful scents smelling like roses, seductive, reluctant fragrances, perfume, hidden in the crevices women want found during monogamy moments, not back seat adventures, procreation moments when her natural being resembles potpourri, both inside, outside, smelling of pillow cases like his French-cuff shirts during brief lunches, conversation, relations, twice if time is taken, shortly after prayers are given, smells which imprison present memories forever linking them to time, frozen, thawed only by a lover’s nourishment, a confidant’s patience, a friend’s eagerness to spoon the desires of those needing nourishment, empty until fed, empty until seeds are planted, raised, harvested for…
Hungry? No longer!
posted by SLUMP FACADE at 1:50:00 PM
