Welcome to Popular Ink's INDELIBLE KITCHEN.

Now get the hell out!

Really, we would love to have you stay but we would feel rude about that as we have left. As in gone, defunct, kaput. We aren't here anymore. Sometimes, when it's late and we are worried about dying, we do believe in reincarnation. So, maybe we will live again. We'll let you know if that happens.


Soup Delirium

Overweight in the prime of stretching

I cave onto your bacon. Spans of roomy

deprivation. Scores of searing pan edges

marking my extremities. One arm

for breakfast. One arm for snake.

Try to dislodge the Alligator from the Python.

Meet the convex of city streets wherein

none of nature’s mastications are performed.

& suddenly it’s raining so hard, & there’s no where

to go. The sewer’s filling. The water’s up

to my knees. I’m sweating a little too, which

contributes. My clothes are pressing in on me

marking my skin with red pictures of hunting

animals and barcodes: a menu of simmering.


Supremo said...

Very nice James Snodgrass. Very nice. I do so love a bit of breakfast snake.

Anonymous said...

I love your stuff!

Anonymous said...

mmmm bacon, pythons, alligators. hungry.

Supremo said...

Did I tell you I like this poem? I like this poem. No put up some more.

Anonymous said...

this does not make me hungry. it does make me scratch my head.

Anonymous said...

Do you have a book? A website?