Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #421
I Missed Thursday Night Pizza
by Belinda Roddie
I missed Thursday night pizza because I
felt terribly ill after eating shrimp
that just wasn't cooked properly. A sigh
escaped me every minute that I dreamt
of a triangular delicacy,
laden with processed dairy, topped with meat
for me to devour, content as can be.
Instead, I lay in bed, shivering, feet
buried in socks and blankets, as my friends
all had their fun consuming, tearing through
stuffed crust. This is the way the sweet world ends,
I thought to myself. Not with a bang, you
fool, but with an empty, heaving stomach.
Just have to get over this small hummock.
by Belinda Roddie
I missed Thursday night pizza because I
felt terribly ill after eating shrimp
that just wasn't cooked properly. A sigh
escaped me every minute that I dreamt
of a triangular delicacy,
laden with processed dairy, topped with meat
for me to devour, content as can be.
Instead, I lay in bed, shivering, feet
buried in socks and blankets, as my friends
all had their fun consuming, tearing through
stuffed crust. This is the way the sweet world ends,
I thought to myself. Not with a bang, you
fool, but with an empty, heaving stomach.
Just have to get over this small hummock.
Comments
Post a Comment