Tag Archives: wine

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What is it? We don’t have it, something we don’t have.

The mystery the mercury the moistery the mastery. The wiggle room,

the where we ought to be. The shame of oughts the sin of noughts,

of nougats piled high and sickly sweet.

What are you, sweet or sweat? The giggle room, the pickle room,

the ambidextrous grace. Kids cannot find you,

longing longing for the kindness of your mercury.

Kids cannot find you, quicksilver. Not find nor chase you.

Not aligned.

And he is not aligned. Just at cross purposes,

and cross as well. Overarching cross and crass and

cress, the water crescents of belief. The ripple room.

Semantics, syntax. The sticky aftermath of wine,

here I am, table, table, table, table, baby.

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march 30, 2007

Reflecting on the ephemeral life. OR
Reflect on the ephemeral life. But
we all resist giving instructions.
Parsed words. A need to flee. A need to be in the clouds for awhile. Poetry driven from internal states. Not always wise to trust the mind, the impulses. Not always wine. Not always time. Never overdue. Never blank. And do you want my autograph?

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I am not hungry. I lost my appetite. No dinner last night, just some mozzarella sticks, frozen and reheated at Richie’s. A glass of cold white wine. Sauce: ketchup mixed with hot sauce, tasted good. Richie and Suely slathered hot sauce on knuckles of reheated chicken meat. I watched and held my own.

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Food is very important to me. I miss being able to cook, having a broken wrist makes it an ordeal. I like really tasty food. I like fruit smoothies. I love wine. I like vegetarian food—all the variety, none of the danger. I don’t think I could be vegan though. I like eggs and dairy too much.