Thursday, September 17, 2015

Sweet as cherry pie

by and by
sweet as cherry pie
as it curdles in the soul
as it rolls 
tenaciously 
sly ...

on your tongue
so tart
better than kitschy art 
better than saying goodbye
so you stay 
warm and dry
with the cherry pie 
which you know
will be wry ...

though it's wrought
while it rots
deeper and deeper
inside

while the silky, fluffy clouds
dress suspension of time
with a layer of
sublime
reaching
reaching
for the rhyme
and the meaning
in the wind chimes 
that whisper
with the plight
that whisper in
the morning -
in the morning of the night ...

and as the clock ticks well beyond
midnight
there's the tartness on your plate
but alas it's like fish bait
for the discordance
of late, 
unto late
unto late
until its' too late

and the fog that fails to lift
in the dauntingly, naively
hopeful abyss
you know something is amiss
throw the plate 
throw the fork
in this
for it really isn't bliss
no it really isn't bliss ...

no, not cherry pie
full of cheap whey
full of dye
that ladens over
for in which
under you lie

but it must be where you lay
get up and
get away 
reach with inner foundation
for a different kind 
of day
for a different kind
of way







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