Copyright © 2009 Ernest Bloom.
what this wild pain is cajun that simmers
sliced heart in hot peppers and cayenne
gamy taste with the fat melting off
when you leave me like this, a blanched
lobster stranded on tide edge rocks where
pigeons foul boardwalk sculpted art, claws
click, tapping when water comes cruel loosely
lapping like derelict angel kisses: adieu!
Those culinary dramas kindled my appetite for the poetics. Lobster is too stimulating a slice of metaphysical ecstasy to leave stranded on the rocks. Shame on those boorish brutes. I love the internal rhyme betwixt tapping and lapping- kind of reminded me of E.A Poe's Raven.
ReplyDeletei wonder whether it's possible to use the word 'tapping' wo evoking the ghost of poe?
ReplyDelete