Tonight's Poet Corner: Tight-Lipped & Sonnet Solstice #56

Tight-Lipped
by Belinda Roddie

Tight-lipped strangers
sleeping in a snowy
manger. Horse mane,
slipping tail down the front of a
dreamer's jeans.

Coarse jerks, framed faces,
trying to find rest in nicer
places, corny lullabies,
winter breath cooling down
summer flesh.

If the disciples are not here
by sundown at the end of the
year, then the nomads will find
refuge in a different modest temple,
where baked bread will be served,
and dry fish will be ample,
enough to sample minimalist pleasure
in a Gothic architect's design.

My house is not a dust bin,
and I am not a failure
within, and it's not much to ask for
quiet when I'm
driving my mind through bridges.

Try crossing them, and you'll fall
into a muddy water
hole, spreading legs out asking for
love, when the stables pile with
tragedies, and the
rich stop counting money,
just to see our kind in mangers.

I Brought You Two Salads
by Belinda Roddie

I brought you two salads for us to munch
while watching movies bought for thirty-five
cents. They've both got balsamic vinaigrette,
with shrimp and croutons. Flavor's most alive
when you're enjoying it so thoroughly.
Oh, I tried too hard to be poetic.
Sometimes it doesn't suit me. Cup of tea?
I'd like to keep your thirst so nicely quenched.
I'm quite an awkward sort, if you ask me:
I wonder why I have been invited
at all. Aren't there other boys you can see
to buy you drinks instead of leafy heads
of lettuce? Oh, you think it's romantic?
Not when the dressing's got that much garlic.