Thursday, June 9, 2011

The Dampened Dinner



Lightning licks the sky
Its mouth roars a groan of approval

The dish: a star sprinkled pizza with a dash of the moon,
creamy clouds create the perfect five star appetizer

The light’s wetted tongue holds back it’s urge no longer

Saliva fizzles down to the earth
Falling on the faces that take each atmospheric firework show for granted

Above, the electric bolt bites

The thunder strikes like the dinner bell
Casting deep fried rain drops onto the already greasy ground

The people pay attention
They turn on their menus and ask the waitress for the dinner special

She replies: raindrop soup, cooled to 58 degrees,
shredded electricity, optional

Orders drown the cook, but he fills them all

For he is thankful for the taste of the sky
And gives back to those who notice

He replaces his knives’ shrill with the sound of a muffled blender 
His youngest clients fall back into their beds and dream of innocents

For his repeat customers, dessert is on the house
Fumes from his cooked grass breath life into their deadened nostrils

A fireball paints hues of a dreamcoat over the landscape
Signaling the end of a bountiful dinner service

A receipt more colorful than the sun’s rays is presented to the earthlings
At its bottom the people give thanks with a pot of gold

The sky shakes eyes with his many guests as they depart into the wild indoors

In due time the storm will steal the sky again and give the human its treat:
Life force

- Kyle Arpke, June 8th, 2011

No comments:

Post a Comment