Pick me out a poem

Posted on July 17, 2015 by

After I ate the poet
I left the shells
piled high on a plate
translucent-pink,
done just right —

and after all that
picking out the meat,
it looked like more
than when I started,
once it was done.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Pick me out a poem

  1. rossmurray1 says:
    July 17, 2015 at 8:13 am

    This morning I spoke to a colleague as he was pulling his motorcycle out of his shed. He told me he was biking to Kentucky as a sort of pilgrimage to the grave of Thomas Merton. He’s bringing his daughter along. “Very Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,” I said. “I’m bringing a copy along,” he replied.
    Might be time to tackle that one again.

    Like

    Reply
    • pinklightsabre says:
      July 17, 2015 at 8:15 am

      Yeah why not? Things change as we do it seems. Give it a go and report back why don’t you? You go first, I’m sure it will be fine.

      Liked by 2 people

      Reply

Leave a comment!

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

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

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

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Cancel

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.