dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: dinner

There’s a pattern in the mold beneath the sunset paint,
The cracks above fold like rivers into a dark sea
Rank with rotting fishy skins.
This water boils the dinner plates
Clean again
After a meal of swamp sauce and
Reeds steamed with the heavy green air
For our dinner on the marsh banks,
Not for the fair or faint of heart.

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?

Shredded paper in his spaghetti


Stamped all over the sauce.

Meatballs ground with

Bits of brown




Dessert topped

With sweet

White-out icing gloss.

Brightly colored streamers

Sprout like chia hair

From your nodding head.

They whip in the wind

Of nearby boring conversations,

Stubbornly hanging in place

Like a birthday piñata.

Stories shoot like silly string

From our painted fingernails

As we grip the dinner table.

My hand gestures

Catch each colored strand

While short confetti giggles

Burst sporadically out of our

Wide suppertime smiles.