If you were a platter of pancakes


I ate your pancake
your pancake is good

griddle brittle garter gauze
a laced haste of uncertain ways
begins a girded lane, a clause 
within another clause  Grappled 
past pensive sticks
of men   The longest stooge
stoops to drool 
I face you

how I feel the day and you
we are people living in a sea of people, 
heaped on bones, stretched through phones
who measures the arc of each moments decay?
Sometimes I think we are the only ones

Twigs and ladders will take us to the stars
it's an apple that brings us back
to smoke curled fingers, a stray
day or two sopped up with work
and yet the blood flows, a vein of 
life unable to be transferred

lain low layers grow 
last longer than 
heart and song
mind and ear
lung and tongue
poem and groove

in my pile is the right line
a leaved note alone, pocket safe
a moment captured for you

Frank Sauce

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