April poetry 2 – Milk

Milk

At the surface,
milk congregates as a disgusting film.
The buttery yellow of this film, the sweet
scent of the ivory liquid’s broken down sugars,
the whisper of boiling bubbles,
they all sure do mock you with the potential
of oral pleasures.

Don’t blame yourself –
you simply lack the necessary information, like
the fact that the film’s underbelly
is a slimy, sticky, decomposing jellyfish.

So you’ll try it once.
Shudder,
spit,
“UGH that’s gross!!!”

move on.

I’m sorry
I’m laughing at your misfortune –
I really shouldn’t be. The only reason
why I didn’t get seduced –
I’d been force-fed it as a child,
I guess they wanted to teach us early on that life is full of shit.
I mean “surprises”.

At the surface, the milk congregates as a disgusting film.

You quickly and gently peel it away these days.
Now here is your favourite part –
the way it sticks to the roof of your mouth.

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February poetry 3 – Amarcord

Amarcord

Do you remember the time
We were watching a video of
A tiny tortoise humping a Croc?
O the squeal that he makes!

We couldn’t decide whether it was
The squeal of a porn-star
Pretending to be a school girl
Or the squeal of an old man.

O the squeal…

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

Do you remember how
I vaguely recalled hearing
That gleeful dolphins rape people?
We then searched for those videos also.

We were not disappointed:
Dolphins are relentless perverts.
O the squeal that they make!
O the squeal…

We laughed and laughed and laughed.

(That’s how you say goodbye
To electricity that was once generated,
But due to it unsustainability
Is now dissipated.)

Movember poetry challenge – Day 28

Privacy Agreement

The walls in my room
Are frosted pink of
Heavily diluted blood.
The chocolate brown
Of my solid wood
(Higher price point) IKEA
Asserts that I’m above
In the food chain.

We never cared for
Decorating, though
There’s this gnawing
Pressure to express yourself,
To prove you are
An artist not a peasant.

I never care, I commit
A faux-pas
Making me
Delightfully
Non-conformist,
A little too hick,
But unmistakeably,
The very formula
Of the Zeitgeist.

I don’t care about that
Nonsense either.
I do care about what I commit to –
Not touching the walls
In case they have ears.

Do not be alarmed –
I am not paranoid.

I savour the refreshing
Monopoly on my
Demographic data.
I bathe in it. I am
The King of my targeted
Advertising.
Bring me my cape.
Bow down.