“Soul Food”: A Poem

Well it’s November, which means NaNoWriMo, waiting for submissions responses and contest results, holiday prep, and all the things that contribute to neglecting this page. So here’s a poem.

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Dissonant chords


and fade,

filling the senses

like warm air

stretching thin rubber skin.


Scratching at the edge

of glory,

unable to release.


binds the unknown


Screaming to be set free,

notes tumble

through space

and consciousness

only to be caught in the breath:

delectable pieces

of sensual fruit.

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