Monday, April 12, 2010


The testy toaster wheezes
a tart and frosty thrust,
"You sir can't taste
the sweet-meat of cause
if you won't stomach
its bland and crusty effect."

I'll come back to his riddle.
First, the percolator
keeps bubbling up
drips of bitter conversation
I've warned her nicely
to drop before.

The Day 12 NaPoWriMo prompt from ReadWritePoem is secret codes. I find my messages in a cramped kitchen.
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