My Bib Poem by Naveed Akram

I spin the pepper in my hands,
Keeping it in the flow of ice cream;
This foundation overwhelms me
Like the taste of squid.
I have the church blessing my laughter,
With baton in hand I perform another
Miraculous jest, a miracle has been born.

What is a catastrophe? The bib uplifts
The baby, with new food and mattress.
I see a bargain descend on the barter,
The bib is full of foundations,
The bibs will be salt, and the coach
Steams ahead, for all away to eat.
More hair will grow and fall.