Day Twenty-Five: ‘Poem For a Spill’

April 27, 2015

A tumbled spill of noodles and meat orbs
lies before me just off the sidewalk
as I step to class. Next to it, french fries
bleeding ketchup and a hunk of bread
aloof like a shy boy at a rock concert.
Why such a combination at 11 am?
We are all spaghetti messes really, inside
or out, so spotting two unrelated meals
in a food-puddle on the dead grass
is really just par for the course, like it or not.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: