I’m Salty

Those tiny billboards flash just out of sight

I reach in pocket, trade food for later –

A can of soda, a tray of tater –

though I know I shall regret that night.

 

I blame them! That tyrannical sugar sprite

curses encounters; their twisted creator

intent on making his number greater.

His pockets heave out: someone is less light.

 

Mouthfeel comforts, embracing like brother,

traps in esophagus dread stunted.

could, should have stopped – but anxiety pulls~

Must reach again, and take another…

 

I should probably do more meditation,

Not sink in sugary placiation.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s