Menu of the Day
This is where I start, the beginning of a
poem. Gee, the faceless memories are
blanketing the beach! The sweet sweat
of anise seeds wets dried olden throats
matching with precious emerald stones
and feta of the gods, dressed in earth’s
natural, colorful skin to satisfy a hunger
where I watched this fairest of them all
trudging through the sand dunes. O, her
foot-prints, left un-touched! I wanted to
measure her smile, but my commander
has taken the order of my day to other
station. There, I imitated Steven Segal’s
expertise chopping veggies, for a soup.
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