you don't care much
about the poetry, in set cutlery

and how a multi-course,
when served-
are iambic in its essence

your gastronomical flair
is limited to the interest
of food tasting

so your buds
can spin-off
a taste to your own liking


*Spin off fare

Poseidon's temperament
rides on rogue waves
prompting kedging
a critical hope
desperately anchoring
on the promise of
Psalm 23:4


*Rogue Waves

You touched my hand
where a loose thread dangled
whereupon its end
you tugged and tugged
so you can watch me
unreel, like magical spool
a legerdemain of
now you see it,
now you don't


*Loose Thread

the grammar of
inference
is an apple
falling with a thud
on my naivety, driving
a cranial awakening,
shaking me