Fiddlehead Fern

Oh fiddle head
with your head bent down
like midnight flower waiting to bloom

a banicle's feather

a forager's green bean

the guard's tight bundled curved staff at the garden gate
we cannot pass

until blanched

sauteed or

pickled

the entrance to the fiddle head's edible secret
is hushed by rarity

Dinner

Italian sausage
Hidden treasure of the fridge
Go to Hell, ramen

... written with Ashley Cook

tooo long

Who is going to write this post?

Lost of White Space

lets not another month go by without posting....

Oh EMO tears.
.
.
.
.

I want to be Charlie Bucket

Alright, give me the fizzy lifting drink
give me the off key musical and

the promise of a golden goose

The waterfall of chocolate

and an edible world


In a world of pure imagination

candy is dandy but liquor is quicker

the print is small and I'm up for the chase

throw it all at me, I'm ready


I want to be Charlie Bucket

my cabbage water turned sweet

My heartbreak turned into carmel

A scrumdilliumptious bar? A Slugworth sizzler?

Slugworth- give it to me straight- how

much are you worth?

I just want to live the sweet dream...sticky sweet.

I just want to wear braids in my hair and I don't want to share them

You want to change the world-

there's nothing to it

If there is nothing an olive can't help

If there is nothing an olive can't help
than I don't know if you can be helped

the unique brine, the sweet meat
removes you from where you once felt
helpless to a place of comfort

a piccholine, a nicoise a lovely cerignola
sitting all fat and taut
making your mouth water
washing away the vulnerability
and wishing you ached like this
for other things

untitled

There is no reflection pool in the ocean’s current

I wrote a poem for the shoes you wear

I wrote a poem for the shoes you wear
And the heartbreak in your eyes
For the way you sing along to the radio
And the way you honk your horn at passing cars
For the way you say the word, "Stanza"
And the sighs you make when you sleep

I didn't keep the poem.
I set it on fire with the rest of the memories
And wished I had a marshmallow to roast