my morning

[dreamchimes]

 Oatmeal

You taste like depression, 
oatmeal. You lie
in your little pot, flick and bat your oat
eyes at me, promise a golden maple warmth
but taste like the ground I fall 
into face-first when I’m sad.

I slather you all across the brick 
and you look like cocking, or is it caulking?
You may as well be a shriveled 
old cock, anyway. That’s what you taste

Comments

[anomalousallure]

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. :)
You have completely modified oatmeal consumption for me.