Sugar Like Salt
When sugar tastes like saltAnd you hand me sand for tea
Bare rings on a bearing sea,
On a linen table cloth
Which is rippling oddly, rather
Within the weave where wrinkles gather,
To exchange some slack for sloth
Crumpet crumbles coffee beans
Ground between tear stained glass
Where cups o f thought may pass,
Service placing plate that cleans
Served up in a silver soup bowl of air
When cactus skin begins to thin your hair
There, there stumbling to a halt
Where sugar tastes like salt.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2014-09-14 at 21:47
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