Cake and Bacon

I used to write poetry. Not regularly, but every so often something would pop in my head and I'd write it down. Done. But it's a ghost town up in my head these days and there's no more poetry a 'flowin. Maybe writing ukulele songs has taken the place of that kind of expression, although all of the songs are rather silly. Stay tuned for the inaugural song by the new ukulele comedy duo "Cake and Bacon" (aka me and PV). We are calling ourselves Cake and Bacon because we're BAAAAAD, but you still want us. The new song is about cults. Yes, yes - we all know about my obsession with cults. We have parlayed it into a handy dandy jingle. Needless to say, I won't be able to post it online for fear of cult retribution, but hey hey hey....you might get a live performance one day.

Here is the last piece of poetry that ever came out of me. Haven't been able to write another since:

Refrain

Perhaps handed down, something innate

The door tightly sealed

Only wisps of light slip in, so solid the lines. Like a stream you eddy and flow, dipping and resurfacing. Deflection morphs into reflection, and back again

Silly. I imagine me the elucidation, your song’s refrain; the one to seep into empty spaces, melting the lines in between, filling each crevasse

The scent of long-awaited honeysuckle calls and lifts, an invitation to a lyrical dance

What do you want, you ask

Don’t know it, can’t name it…it pesters and pokes. My mind, a recalcitrant tangle of half-thoughts wedged in little pockets

I want to come undone. I want to be shattered and re-created. I want to come in. Pure. Unadorned. Sans the sanguine sass. Unguard, I say, coaxing your release.

Play with me. Let me see.

I crave the warmth of your hand on the small of my back. I want to be sliced open, pared down, uncovered, unlocked.

Free to swill from the sweet water