ODOP: Surreptitious-Suspicious

Feeling unwell, so I’m cheating and posting an old scribble from the “discard” pile today. The inspiration is the whole realm of third-rate fantasy lit. So we’ll have to blame Tamora Pierce for this one.

There’s no good paid work,
But there’s banquet prep
And burnt fingertips.

All-eyed newlin’s just lick
‘Em, type-dab crumbs, and quick
Their dulled stomachs flame to
Sour-rich pickle in,
And steak-broth from the stew,
And round sauce-bones growin’
The tiniest, tenderest meat
(Lor’! How rich people eat!)
Shamne-temptin’ are spoons of
Gravy with beef-bit centers,
Stylist scarlet ladies of
Strawberry cheesecake-squares,
Salt-cubes, seeds little and
Many to a mouthful
And sent-back cold, dead hills
For stuff that on tongues lands
With sizzle that greezes.
And this ladle-stealth’s done
‘Mid the hollerin’ and hum
And hustle-bossgirl, who is

Plain-faced and mare-eyed,
And ‘tends eyelessness
At blatant sip-swifts.

Copyright 2010 Jobey George

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