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Christina Lau Oct 2015
he dived into a pool of syrupy, blackness;
dived into his past.
it smelled of ***** laundry,
sweat, and goodbyes.
he choked on the thick memories;

raucous music rippled through
the molasses that weighed him down.
he realized his mistake for dwelling
and kicked his feet feverishly,
back and forth
back and forth.
his lips broke the surface.
sunlight met him with a kiss.
the bad days were long gone.
Round or square.
I don't really care as long
as they're there. Crispy and
golden, filled with sticky syrup.
Topped with butter which melts
like ice. Take one bite and you
are in love. They are the best
breakfast to ever be on
one's tongue.
I really love waffles. ♥
Take the ego . . .
Not mine but your's !

Toast it golden brown , hot
put some butter and syrup on it

Now see if you can eat it
Without choking on the way down

What ? Milk ? Sure here's some 2%
See if it helps swallow it down

Here's seconds coming up
Hey ! It's your ego

I can't help it if it's large !

Have some more syrup . . . butter ?
How about a gallon to go
Harly Coward Oct 2014
"Do you know who the prime minister of Canada is?"

"Hmmm isn't it Tim Horton?"

Sweating, shivering, and shoveling snow,
Looking up with relief as the flakes begin to slow.

Starting our mornings with pancakes drizzled in gooey sweet syrup
And greasy, cheesy, poutine being our last meal we eat up.

We hike up a green lush mountain just to see the view
And shoot down the slopes of silvery snow and feel as if we flew.

The rascally beavers are our vandals, the loons are our song,
The cougars reminding us that we are strong.

We are Canadian, eh?
But would we really want it any other way?
Olivia Anderson Jul 2014
My favorite feeling is coming out of a restaurant
cheeks are flushed, and eyes are lively
everyone is high on a strange syrupy feeling
how it makes you feel so sleepy, yet so awake
clattering of plates, clinking of perspirating glasses
the soft glow makes everything seem more beautiful.

It’s there I see you, for the first time, I really see you.
Small smile and all, amid the roar of conversation
time doesn’t stop; it become preserved in memory
it becomes a part of how I will always remember you

Your breath lulls me in, calls to me
sweet words pull out of your mouth
like bubbles escaping languidly
for a moment, all is dampened as if we’re under water
sanguine, hearty, I am happily trapped
in this space with you
May 2014
i Mar 2014
take the cough syrup,
dear.
it will help and heal
your sore throat and
bitter soul.

— The End —