dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: appetite

The dark, cold mud
At the pond bottom
Sits between my teeth
And their pink gums,
Sounds sink brown
And water bugs jump.

Please pass the plate
Of frayed orange lifejackets.
I’d like an oar or two
In my sweet tea tonight.
Do you see the light
Bob in the ice cubes

Like the waves
Crashing through my ears,
Sending fish and bait
Flopping, sopping up
A swimming appetite
From my dinner plate?

Cracked plates and silverware,

We all sit


Staring out

The dishwasher door.

Clean and dirty,

Silent as

The cold linoleum,

Tired of being stacked and scraped and smeared

With insatiable appetites.

Lint clumps and sharp, dry pasta pieces

Kicked beneath the rug

Brush across each taste bud,

Stick to the sides

Of my throat,

Or float down

With each sweep of your

Dusty blue

Broom bristle stares.

You pricked my

Kitchen floor cares,

And now I’m choking on

Forgotten appetites.

Sticky post-it notes

In thick wads

Down my throat,

Flashcards and bold print,

Just skim texts

Two percent,

Busy schedule

Kills the appetite.

Word count too full,

Word Watchers diet.

Happy, healthy people

Don’t try it.

He didn’t just

Like candy and soda,

Cupcake wrappers

Filled his tummy too.

Ten chubby fingers

Trembled like Jell-O

As they reached

For the small

Pale hands of his pretty

Curly haired classmate

Who sat in trepidation

across the school lunch table.

But her chocolate pudding

Like the brown swirls of her hair,

Captivated his senses

And curbed his appetite

As he immersed each finger

In the sweet distraction.