He could communicate a blue streak of blue-ribbon babble sending her into a scramble of words that reek of yeast expanding on hot air but she kneaded him rough and raw and put the words right back in his jaw where they burned as they over-baked.
04/26/2014
Posted on 04/26/2014Copyright © 2026 Clara Mae Gregory
Like very much the analogy and irony of this unique poem.
Adding to Mr. Q's comment, not a bad allegory either, Clara Mae. LOL!