Wherein the Thought of Food Makes Me Lose My Appetite

Not to say that it shouldn’t, but rather, the direct approach is shunned

The naive approach is scorned

And honesty is a whistling bottle hurled through the air to catch some peace and rays

Well

Still stymied the lust for adventure itself is craven

One wants too much when want is all but too little to have for a forthright sinking feeling in the basin where our last home drained its wishes

Some say

But not one single one knows of it

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s