They were unpromising Words grated like cheese. Words reduced to small shreds. Words strung like pasta. Tossed like a salad Thrown together with a pinch of thyme And oregano The other morsels were small. Irritants Acidic Tomatoes, garlic, and onions Barely noticeable to the tall ones Their necks stretched out in the clouds. They see … More Bruised Plums #240
Hate is like a piece of yeast. It permeates and puffs up with satisfaction It says, “I am right!” I hold truth! I carry all knowledge! I will rebuke! It wipes its mouth with a napkin And still, the juice runs Hate dripping off chins Spilling over into diaper bins And storefront shelves Magazine covers, … More Hate is?