Show Poem… Fiery chicken fries are back / Aug. 22 / miniBar KC, MO #poetry 


photo by Jenn Schnabel

I want you to want me
To show you to show me
The way
In and out
Of the world
Of infinite gratitude

You supply the night baby
I’ll supply the love.
Dog on a leash
Looking backwards

Flap jacks and bean bags
Roadside biscuit
Show me your butter
Show me your honey
Show me your gravy

Riding through a water fall
Of gravy
High fiving
Our way to the top

Swimming through hot grease
Cooking with a fire extinguisher

The earth provides
Bottomless anxiety
And endless free depression sticks
Fear changes nothing
Fiery chicken fries are back

Lifetime supply of pizza
Breakfast burgers
3 way pancakes
Nothing compares to you

This block of cheese feels like
A block of marble
I can almost taste it.
Like licking a rock
Making love to a rock.
A beautiful salty smooth rock.

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A return to New landscape

The branches are starting to sag
Under the weight of promises
Addicted to the winds
Of Summer 

Slanted telephone poles
On their way out
More signals passing through
Buried underground
A return to
New landscape 

Looking at what we will not know

Barking through fences
The cruel jokes
Kids play in the yard
Sealing their fates
In a blink their mother’s eye

A memory
Over and over it plays
I let it pass through
But I know it will return
Like water in the gut
A temporary home for water

Water drips from leaves
Into the asphalt
And into the grass 

There’s more people here Than you might think

There’s more people here
Than you might think 

Pay no attention to swings and poles 

What is the source of your drama
Cars splitting in two?
Born in the wrong body?
Dreams of decapitation?

Neverminding memories.
We must all sit down together
Over a breakfast of our broken eggs 

We share many things

Roasting over the rib pit
Our juices run together 

We must consider
For a moment
The bones we suck on 

When we run
our lungs grow stronger

We share the air
With many tiny things 

A white plague
A plague of pollen
A plague of flowers 

We let go of the

The guilt
For Beating our meat 

We drink in the smoke
Like wine
We dance with the fire
Like a true true