Although my body stopped feeding
that organ known as “my soul”
some time ago,
I still write messages to it
on paper plates,
and then I eat off them
and them alone,
hoping something will soak through.
When I tell you this,
all you can think of to say is,
why are you killing all those trees?
O, how I pray
that you stop asking.
This is why
I lower my eyes
in your presence
and grit my teeth:
you call attention to the slaughter
all around me,
and still manage to entirely
miss the point.
Blogged with the Flock Browser

January 29th, 2011 at 12:33 am
I suspect you took a swipe at eternal truth and somehow managed to chip a bit off.
February 1st, 2011 at 9:43 am
Thanks! I hope so.
January 27th, 2011 at 1:05 pm
I really enjoyed this one…I know it isn’t supposed to be funny but the brilliant ending still made me smile and actually laugh out loud…maybe because of my own paper plate fetish…
January 27th, 2011 at 1:23 pm
Oh, it was meant to be a LITTLE funny…in that laughing through the tears sort of way…