Gary Baldwin Poet Free verse

Nourished

I’ve grown sick of happiness. It’s sugar, candy for drunken children

I wince at wholesomeness. It’s flour, dry and tasteless as life itself

I’ve never loved the truth. It’s salt, melting my innocent snow

There is a cancer in consequence. Like yeast, converting me at gunpoint

Romance is fickle, fleeting. Like butter, such a slippery slope


And yet it all comes flying in like karma from out of left field

We swallow it down whole like fresh bread from heaven

 and survive to see another moment as fine as this one

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