TUNTREET
Poetry
by Thomas
Three poems about treading on salad You wander away from me dancing away on roses looking over your shoulder from time to time asking me to keep up I follow nearly there always delayed for every step I tread in a new salad
Salad pre-cut pre-washed pre-trodden
To tread I look around To observe the chaos The gruesome food waste I have created Of all the salad I tread on I see that it was not salad but grapes and out of the vat flows a deep Merlot
Princess tart Princess tart I found a princess tart In a locker at school The first centimetres were dry The next were mouldy And soon In the toilet
Spear A spear in one hand a blank board in the other Alright, let’s try again Friends Tabula rasa, baby Everything you’ve got, baby The sexy jazz I’m hearing Every time I see you Culminates in a trumpet solo Played by Israfil Edition 02 Volume 76 25
