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Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Thanksgiving Feast ©12/06/09 Claudia Schlottman

Perrier Joet from a hand blown flute
long stemmed fading from green to blue
tastes bitter on my lips & stings my tongue.

Chocolate mousse melts to mud in my mouth
while the hole in the room grows wide
& they pretend it’s Thanksgiving when we
all know it’s the edge of madness.

Cheese straws are sawdust in my throat choking
me, pasting my cheeks to my teeth
my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Will I
ever forgive you for leaving
me to strangle on my grief?
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