Short Mortar And Pestle Poems

Ponder the old pestles and mortars
used at times in apothecaries,
older drug emporium quarters.

Some of the porous surface was shared
by grinding both mortar and pestle
ending up in medicines prepared.

Do today's microplastics alarm you?
Minute particles endanger us all;
microwavable repercussions? Whew!...

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Gravity falls on my head like cartoon pianos,
Drawn by he who drops,
Weights of ivory and ebony concertos,
Whose sound on me won't stop.

Heavier and heavier the pressure pushes,
Down along my spine,
As the falling instrument smears and smushes,
Me into a powder crushed so fine.

Like the alchemest whose legerdemain,
Uses a mortar and pestle to press,
Gravity's foot on me and remains,
Like a cartoon piano, a weight in excess....

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