Sam Silva
When Words Become
a Feast of Love
A pig a pearl a plastic hat
...the blue juice brewing
in the skies
...they ache with their sick lullabies!
...they vinegar within the vat!
The love I long for is so true
...I lie awake and dream of her,
but in my bowels
the gases stew
the wild dog yowls
the cats all purr
for comfort
to encase their lies
and egos form their big balloon.
Oh Jesus how the sick man cries
when words become a feast of love
...a festival of glutton pies!
...the pigeon longing for the dove!
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