with a plastic spoon I dig grave yards from sermon quotes
pretend
the man in the moon churns out chedder cheese …
ask ushers to fill doggie bags with
cold french fries and pieces of old hamburgers while I greasily
toss about yesterday’s manna…
comb over my worn out hair and
ask over weight waitresses to hand out half
baked menus of
platitudes
…I smugly serve
piews of hungryfolks and ask for amens
from cheer leaders who drop quarters to hear
yesterday’s songs .. from juke boxes called
Platitunes…
they follow my pied piper
dance to grave yards of
over cooked quotes where I
lace snow cones with
tender hooks… they are
afraid to call
regurgitated manna
food poisoning..and
I know it.. which makes
it easier to demand tips to
buy platform shoes as i preach at
Platitudes Diner
HI Kae,
What imagery! I was so into trying to analyze your poem, I’m not sure if when you spelled platitunes, you meant it or it was a typo. Don’t tell. It’s mysterious.
Definitely intense. I read your bio. I am a teacher as well.
Maybe you can check out my blog. I host 10 networking events each month where you could meet more readers for your poetry.
Janice
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I did and liked:)… Thanks for your awesome comment :)..
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Thanks for your visit.
Janice
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u betcha:)..
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Play on words … Platitudes to platitunes
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See I guess that! I put that in my comment! I knew it!
Janice
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Yep:).. Went with the juke box imagery…
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Ur more than welcome to follow me… I tend to reciprocate:)
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A very intense and interesting poem, ah the romantic dinner of the modern life whit plastic dishes and microwaved food.
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🙂
🙂
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🙂
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