Whipped

PJR

I told you I was working on it
The country ham and red eye
Gravy, but you kept tight
Grip on my shorts to let me
Know you were still waiting.
The thing is, with country ham,
That you wouldn’t know yet is
The saltiness, and to keep in
Mind the flavor. But you ignored
Me the way you always do and
Dove in. Two fists of a a future
Prescription end in -tan
Or -pril. And we’ll match.
Then, slicing strawberries, I saw
You in my shirt, stuck, like those
Chunks that fall between the
Countertops never again to be seen.
The fruit was ripe, and soft and my
Hand slipped, but I adjusted in
Seconds. Your face was concerned
As mine, and you touch my nose
Hand covered in sweet cream, whipped.

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For Better or Verse — Poetry Month 2022 et al.

Philip J. Repko, Ian C. Repko, and Philip E. Repko have been fiddling with words for more than a few years. Here we shall periodically contribute.