Poem 28 of the ProCrasstheNation Poemvember Poetry Project involves food. A sweet thank you to Benjamin M. for filling the cavity of my sweet tooth with one hell of a snack.
“Macaroons”
I enjoy playing the spoons,
when I snack on macaroons.
On occasion, I spit chunky loogies,
into brass spitoons.
Or off the docks,
with longshoreman goons.
Going by the graveyard,
whistling tunes.
Getting lost with Loch Ness,
in Brigadoon.
Too soon?
Ridden down by infantry dragoons.
Secret messages in runes.
Harvest moons.
Sandy dunes.
Smoking plumes.
Raided tombs.
Old West Saloons.
At high noon,
in June,
when lovers swoon.
While feeding each other macaroons.
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