Not Spilling A Drop Poem by Sheena Blackhall
Not Spilling A Drop
Not spilling a drop, in a zigzag line
Red-as-a-lobster man, trousers at half-mast
Veers fore and aft towards his tilting table
The blue tattoo on his arm has a wrinkled mermaid
Her sad green tail folds into the wrinkly equator
Around his elbow.
Poor mermaid, gone from a peach
To a shriveled walnut
Her plump pink face and breasts
Now concertina squeezed.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
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4/24/2024 7:42:43 AM # 1.0.0.1119
