Platters battling
wanting the front spot
awaiting their drenching
warm foam slapping
their chubby thighs
lulled into compliance while
sudsy dreams caress their colors
Sour nests of last night’s soup bowls
cringe at the electric rush
the humming flow
tickles their shallow tummies
remembering the split pea coats
they wore
Forks and knives crowd their cars
stand at attention
saluting their cupmates overhead
whose hangovers welcome
the coming storm
silver streams to purify
drunken memories and
smells of fish
© by Deborah Rohde.
Used with the author’s permission.
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