Crock Pot Literature Stew - Poem by Erik Wilson
Chopping and munching on plump letters for sweet honey poems.
Writer stewing and with monk hood he guards and brews
Clams and words jumble and bubble to the brims-
of battered, beaten, enslaved pots
Gritty grim grave light leaks like a nasty faucet-
streaming on tenacious, turbulent writer's chunky celery stew
Globs of dharma meat melt and spice the bland sentences
This stew begins to a-rumble and brood with ugly groans-
longing for the touch of stainless steel spoon.
Magical herbal mixes oregano, vivacious thyme and rosemary-
all washed and simmered together with splashes of enlightened Jameson whiskey
Splendid stew saturates to some otherworldly potential-
celery coasts brothy waters-secrets of naked modern linguistic lampposts.
Brothy, frothy he conducts the courageous wooden spoon-banging on gleaming rose tea kettles
The wooden spoon of enlightenment-and alas-
another good stew!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You