…
Oh, dearie. Let me don my cam
-i
-sole,
and we’ll be ready
for the mar
(-row).
Rad, right?
(Did you read
that right?)
It’s a little too tight
to fit the full
super moon,
spooned.
Oh, macadamia sky.
Why
do we ask all
the raw questions?
Why raid the rye,
or ram the dharma?
The karma
is too thick to spare,
see?
Click.
Smile.
………………I dare ye.
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My Shawna challenged me to break down the word “camaraderie” and play with it. This is what it wanted to be. 😉
I am giggling like crazy, but soundlessly so as not to wake the baby. I literally have a stitch in my side, this is so funny.
I knew you’d do this … make me giddy with your words. 🙂 Love you! BIG.
Reading it again … and crying from laughing so hard. Lord, this is hilario.
“Why raid the rye, or ram the dharma?”
I mean, sweet gee sissy fuss. This is precisely what I want from my poetry reading experience. So THANK YOU.
Playful tone lulls the reader into this theater of questions we ask of ourselves … questions we ask comically and dramatically that always seem to bubble and spit-boil down to a core why … beautiful pause, in the hey look back at my poem realm last line too … I really like your voice here, Poet …
TC!
I don’t know if I understand it (cognitively) but I loved saying it – all your poems have such a fun bounce to them, meant to be spokened
What a great breakdown of words.. love the macadamia sky… I’m nuts