by Adam Sifre
Cream
Hot cappuccino, with a splash of sweet whipped cream,
pure liquid, heated treat.
Warm and lush going down.
PIE
She served him pie she knew was ruined.
Then stood there, practically daring him to say something. She watched him choke down each dry, charred, mouthful.
In barely a whisper,"i burnt it on purpose ."
over and over, like a cliched suburban mantra.
Her husband didn't hear her, but the boy did. He heard and remembered.
Years later, when his wife burned dinner, he was ready.
What's shakin'?
Everything was in place, solid.
For years.
At rest. Ordered.
Then
A
V
A
L
A
N
CHE
Now life is sixes and nines,
new parts exposed, others buried under ruins.
Emotions torn away from natural progression,
tumble and swirl, rise and fall.
But alive.
Wonderfully battered.
Beautiful bruises.
Adrenaline highs.
We run on false bedrock, unstable ground.
Every step together, a spin of the chamber -
barrel pointed at the heart.
To move? Insanity.
Still …
pull the trigger.
One more step.
everything's shakin.'
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Three quickies with a different take on relationships.
"Pie" has an irony taste. I tried "Cream" as a line once and got a good laff. "Shakin'" is just right.
Life is hard. And then you die.
Yep, that's how it is. Very well observed, I thought.
Lovely lines and observations
"Now life is sixes and nines,
new parts exposed, others buried under ruins."
and
"She served him pie she knew was ruined.
Then stood there, practically daring him to say something."
amongst my favourites.
Thank you Gary, Matt and Ellie. As always, I appreciate the read and comments.
The Pie story was originally a FB comment on a photo someone had posted. I figured I would dress it up a bit and call it a poem.