"Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn." ~Thomas Gray

"Poetry unites." ~Anon

"Truth is such a rare thing, it is delightful to tell it." ~Emily Dickinson


Written by Melissa Crowe
She lives in Portland, Maine, USA
Her blog: Milk and Paper

Fancy Luncheon with Apocalypse

My love of ginger is a fascist
love, the smell of ginger--
everything should be so clean
should smell of sugar and ice,
lemon juice and baby hair, should
hide its sweet under dirty, knuckled
skin--maybe the world under its
crust of blood and lava, under its
wrinkled scab, is also new, white
as a bone, and maybe all these
beatings, all these licks will get us
to the center, the pure meat,
a heat against which we will want to
press our ugly bodies till they burn.

Originally published on writer's personal blog.
Posted with consent of the writer.

5 Comments:

  1. christopher said...
    This is so tight, I envision a ream or so of revision in order to get it all deep and so little horizontal, cutting out each unnecessary word and replacing it with the deeper so many times that the fascist ginger finally gets satisfied with the company it is keeping.

    Thank you, Melissa, for loving poetry so much.
    RachelW said...
    Melissa's poetry is so rich, I discover more in her poems each time I read them through. Thank you for this one!
    CLAY said...
    All these licks will get us to the center...woo boy, that's some fine poetry.
    WHY? said...
    Humanity at it's worst and best?
    Jannie Funster said...
    Man, stunning.

    Thank you for another verse that stops time.

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