I’m sorry but
we only eat
what is
fully coated
in butter,
vodka,
salt,
or chocolate
though we do
make occasional
exception
for meals
covered with
melted cheese
All others
need not apply
I’m sorry but
we only eat
what is
fully coated
in butter,
vodka,
salt,
or chocolate
though we do
make occasional
exception
for meals
covered with
melted cheese
All others
need not apply
Leaves litter the porch—
Indian summer’s reminder
sends shivers through the
chrysanthemums
worries
wrinkle the air
thicker on the ground
than the red leaves
and still falling
putting on mascara
in the hurried
morning mirror
through the open window
roar of a motorcycle
putting on speed
both of us
preparing
to race up the hill
don’t replace the broken-handled
colander. Just so, shake out
the last frozen mukimame
hidden in the corner of the bag.
Let every thing be of use
not tossed aside the hidden one
grew as greenly as all others
tucked into its edamame
shell of itself
a cart full of home, ingredients
for soups and stews and
pasta sauces cozy comfort
I long to wrap around you
tied with childhood’s long strings
a too warm blanket you can push away
so you don’t smother
while you’re eating
our sleepy old cat
pushes his head
into the palm of my hand
the only poem
in my head today—
on the phone, the sound
of your happy voice
world echoes colors
you chose, green grasshopper perched
on purple shamrock
there's a poem in every day
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"
custom poems on vintage typewriters
Poems by Mary Kendall
A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014
Living in the moment