Wednesday, April 11, 2018
Community Of Food
The community is harder than ice, and rising storms,
Singing is allowed, for the very rich and famous;
A religion bursts in front of the years so precious,
Balloons pop, poor circus, poor circus, popping is along.
Festival is a feast, sovereignty is the right, so poor muse
Be offended by smacking lunch, and so big dinner.
The community estimates a just circle, a just judge,
For philosophy runs a park of grass and roses, lies
Spring forth, the phones burst, as television surrounds.
A religion has begotten a child of worth so oblong,
His hands are perfect, his face concerns me, as if the door
Opened fully, too happy is fruit and foolish pudding.
Topic(s) of this poem: food,festival