Andy Brookes

Gold Star - 21,498 Points (11 May 1954 / Macclesfield)

No Palate - Poem by Andy Brookes

Half a bottle of red
sits on the table.

the cork exposes its bouquet,
you smile.

I no drinker, sip my tea
and wonder why.

why this fermented grape
with its deep fragrance,

always tasted like petrol
or stringent sour soap?

you kiss me and I feel its taint
we two chalk and cheese.

Topic(s) of this poem: life


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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 4, 2015



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