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Laughing Ghosts
A frozen puddle
reminded me of a chicken thigh
lightly dusted with flour,
waiting on a deep dive
in roiling oil.
I thought about
stepping on the metaphor
but, decided not;
soon enough
it’d be cold broth
for a rising, hungry sun.
Laughing Ghosts
Originals are better than remakes.
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
60
Echoes in the ashes,
flutter from my ears and nose.
Memories, gasping for crystal air,
flee the grasp of a stumbling tongue.
Niggling ghosts of nothing,
naked in a fading sun.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Deep Fried Puddle
A frozen puddle
reminded me of a chicken thigh
lightly dusted with flour,
waiting on a deep dive
in roiling oil.
I thought about
stepping on the metaphor
but, decided not;
soon enough
it’d be cold broth
for a rising, hungry sun.
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Hint Of Humidity
I zipped my zipper
in a cold Spring wind
(I’m sure you understand why).
Nature doesn’t have call waiting, or
a button to place on hold.
I checked for tracks
on the landscape of my legs,
no trace of the legacy of age.
in a cold Spring wind
(I’m sure you understand why).
Nature doesn’t have call waiting, or
a button to place on hold.
I checked for tracks
on the landscape of my legs,
no trace of the legacy of age.
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About Me
- Pat Paulk
- 2009! 57 years ago in April I was a 2# squealing baby boy. Got a wonderful tan in an incubator. Made friends with plastic tubing, needles and tape. All of which I have zero recollection. I've been well watered and fertilized over the years, and grown quite ripe. Plastic tubing, needles and tape are catalysts for flashbacks without the buzz. Enjoy!
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