google image
How is it
we can take the batter
of this lumpy, mixed-up life,
all the wrong ingredients,
too much beating,
rancid flour,
and still wind up with
a pretty good cake?
*** *** ***
When I write,
I write the way
I want my life to be.
When I eat,I eat the words
I cannot say.
I cannot say.
*** *** ***
Hmmmmm..........the first regurgitates some lines from an earlier poem. The second popped out and made me go: "whoa!"
