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Left Foot Poet Aug 2017
the server (waiter) raps
praise upon the sushi,
its integrity,
the harmonic
of its construct,
the curated singularity of
each rice grain

the innate elegance of
the thin sliced,
nearly translucent,
au naturel, organic,
ginger root

the skin smooth paste of
green wasabi,
grown naturally
along stream beds in
mountain river valleys in Japan

genuinely puzzled,
when he,
the old erstwhile poet
unabashedly weeps before all

no hero he,
just an overcome one,
his tears flavoring his food

mourning the
celebrated abuse
of his verbal children,
those natured nurtured babes
the stuff,
the words of his definition

each weird word,
loved for their cultured,
unique quality of their history
grown in languages's
perpetual petri dish

asked if something was a matter,
answered yes,

"this plated performance,
such an extravagant essay
on the beauteous wonder
of life's bounty,
left me wordless"

and she, burst out loud in laughter
neth jones May 2019
The body dies :
A crumpling
not an implosion
as I turn inward
on my own corpse
In a desperate gasp
for sustenance and revival
The result ? :
A flourish!...
but, then, a puff
The Surround caves me
collects arrears upon my vehicle
I am to make no feast
the body is the process
neth jones Jun 2019
We meet at the Museum
hours after it has closed
Dressed - Impress
- Costume ;
All of our Art exposed

We'll feast upon The Security
the mousetrap
and The Ghost
We'll chew upon the wiring
We're the party
and host

                                             - a child in love
#1 Silly-silly / Set Siren to our Prances / Petty Chime to our Dancing Vice / It would make a Tabloid Musical #3 Silly-silly / I wish to take you grotesque places / We’ll wear our masks over nasty faces / For now my immersion lies in cruelty / Of the results I shall form the most lavish jewellery / Together we’ll master a theatre of tomfoolery / I am most grateful for jest / Your breath / And / Above all / Your company.              
- a child in love

— The End —