| Sunday, September 30, 2007 |
| Three Day Old Bread |
It is not stale. It lacks the
density, the bounden callousness,
of the truly hardened.
Dressed in a coat
of clear and supple plastic
it has not yet been abandoned to
the fury of the air.
But tear off a hunk with your
teeth and you can tell:
The crust, tan and unwrinkled,
yields haltingly,
the soft, white pith, once plush,
has a wavering laxness,
like an aging waistband.
There is something of it
as a whole I do not like,
even as I bite and swallow.
A pact of dust, mulling silent
in the fine dust that preceded.
An adulteration, greenly present
yet invisible, dating back unto
the flower of the flour. |
posted by rebeccacalvetti @ 3:09 PM   |
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Name: rebeccacalvetti
Home: Cleveland, Ohio, United States
About Me: I got brunette hair which goes dirty blonde under the sun. I have green eyes and am not particularly short or tall. People who have seen me in a two-piece or less say I have fine decolletage.
See my complete profile
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