The Muse Dances in the Garden of Poetry

September 27, 2014

Four poems in one evening, wow, I’m happy…

Brass Knobs Were The Gateway Drug

to tin-can peaches.
Ask any soldier who shipped out east,
rucksack butter cookies and backwoods nip.
He’ll remember, recall the yonder,
before smoke stacks and insulin,
long before litter showed its ugly.
When mother’s sweetened the kiss, his lips;
made a way, a harder path for true love,
and another story all together.
A way to a man’s heart…
Peace or piece,
it’s all cut the same—
a wedge will only entice the hungry,
and an addict reveals no shame.

Tin cans have been bopping and clattering about in my head since I read something about them in my Mystic West book and studies…twice in two poem drafts they clatter and follow…

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