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Booked Up For Lunch

You can’t stand ignorance
but spell it incorrectly.

Thirteen books on the table, stating the fact.

Open their pages to
own the words.  Make them dance
the Foxtrot.  Do the Fandango with a Cha-Cha-Cha

Fact

dripping in true, unadulterated English
staining the cloth.  Burning wisdom into wood.

But you won’t understand
whilst they are wrapped.

Trapped.

Playful eyes on a Playboy cover
stare up
from the bathroom floor

She knows. And laughs

Fact.

You can have that one for free.

There’s a cure for indigestion.  Go to the table
find your place.

All you have to do
is eat.

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About GinAndTulips

Gin and Tulips; The home of the frolicking G&T Lovers. Come in, pull up a comfy seat and make yourself at home. And if you like it. Join us.

13 responses »

  1. Really liked this one, mostly because of the thread of anger in it. At least that’s what I heard, and I respect anger. Like the way you play with the rhythm too, I have to learn that.

    Reply
    • Thanks Trent, you heard it as I did. Are you an angry man? Do you need to talk about it? You know, if you do…you should ring the Samaritans.

      Reply
      • Yes, quite angry most of the time, but in a positive way if that makes sense? My professional career is aimed at making change, and I find that anger is a better word for what is required than, for example, passion. I don’t mind the fighting of battles, but to do it your heart has to be in it, and that expression is often quite overwhelming – it may even be called anger, though perhaps that is not exactly the right word. In my normal life, I am very sedate and highly boring, I drink wine which is nice and mellow and scoot about with my kids who are anything but. And I write. Anyway, I respect high passion, and I heard it in this poem of yours.

    • It does make sense…and I enjoyed reading that. It made me ponder; anger vs passion. Interesting. Hmm…I might like to have a play with that.

      Reply
  2. I liked this but I do not like this. The this I like is this poem and the this I dislike is inside the poem. “Morons, they are all around us!” said the man in the crowd.

    Reply
    • I’m glad you liked it…and did not like it.

      Reply
      • *grin* I was, clearly, off on some mental tangent that made sense of why I should write my comment like that. Re-reading it, it seems a bit over the top. Anyway, I love your stuff and pretty much read you every day after I post mine in the morning. Thanks for being my breakfast reading!

      • You write whatever you like…I don’t mind a bit. Thank you for such a compliment…and for letting me keep your coffee company.

  3. Enjoyed. There is always a seat open at the table and the food is free. Leo

    Reply
  4. This has a nice little stop and start thing going on here, with a red thread wiggling down the middle.

    Reply
  5. Pingback: Untitled, Chapter 1 – Draft « THE SCARECROW

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