As is Poetry


What pretty things lie within the maw!
Row by row—glistening, glowing, gleaming
treasures. What handsome words,
in all their coarse splendor,
to gaze at, pick at, but never swallow.
A palate distinguished as notes lacking music,
bitter song but – both appealing and appalling!
How strange! What is the meaning?
Why bother to decipher? Perhaps teeth
are perfect for musing and chewing, but to swallow
and to taste requires a throat and a tongue.

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