Stay Home Made

#read-poetry #poetry

Bubbling from the glass lake
Street lights buzz in
Our window. “It looks straight,”
Hanging there like a mirror.
Within it a reflection of
This house. Home light floods
Down the hall, a tsunami

Rushes in
The bedroom doorway
Taking up all the air.
Waves high enough to
Spill out our windows.

It’s dark enough to get bitten
By spiders. Dark enough
To nap into a room filled
With empty dishes displayed
And waiting for the kill.
But not hungry enough
To eat your heart out instead
To feast on your fears.
Swallow from the saliva
Once induced by just a
Single picture of it.

Just the word alone
Or the thought of pineapple
So strong that it burned
My cheeks, tingled, drips off
My tongue like hot sauce
On a summer day
A salty sweet day.

The dream I had of sleep
A dream of a dream
Laying closely and
Near everybody, touching.
I am The Road the yellow lines
Where a motorcycle’s rust
Lost it’s grip and slipped
From inside the Gas tank.
Without food
Even metal feasts like a meal.
Yet in one great
And momentous breath I
Inhaled taste and scent
I found umami
You and I sweet and
Tasted oddly like love.

When did you ask
For your liberation
From desire?
Tear off the disguise
Worn in the war
Against want
To never suffer, or
Lose freedom from
Ordinary things you
Waste instead of own?
Owing a debt, none the
Less: gratitude
Becomes a feast for one.

Questioning resolves
A thirsty soul’s spy for
Who’s the master?
Are there even any
Leftover brave saints?
And everything at once –
Can you conceive of it all?

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