It is only when you are handed that milk-glass,
The appetite dissipates,
'Oh how it will leave a queer lactic
Taste on my pink tongue'

Only when you press the Coke-glass
To your lips, bubbles tickling your noise,
That the curving goes,
'Oh how will it leave my teeth
Feeling funny and loose'

The headache you get from
Watching too much telly'
And too much chocolate,
A pain in your belly.

A notion of thought
So perfect as a pearl
In your head,
To sing, laugh, dance, cry, love
Until you are dead.

The oblivion of bliss
Brought about when have
Won, conquered, got, ate, drank, bought, finished.

Conclusions are so finite.


-Jamie F. Nugent