'Fresh Meat On The Table' Poem by Linda Winchell

Platters full of freshly killed
Meats, now upon the Forum table.
Come pick the bones of those who rhyme
Sweeter towards the bone, if you’re able.

Salt or pepper if you must
But leave some scraps for but another’s lips to taste.
Don’t gorge, until your stomachs burst
Just eat what’s needed, to plate.

There’s more of feasting to be had
Others of us, all partaking in.
To comment on the poets’ choice of flavors
The freshly cooked feast, of ones poetic sins.

By: Linda Winchell
Copyright: 2009