Repeat Orders
I sit at my favorite table
In a purple coffee shop
Wearing smart corduroys
And a flimsy orange top.
I usually just take the largest cup
Of the hottest, strongest brew,
But it’s one of those days when I decide
To check out the menu.
Next to a dried blob of ketchup
Is a dish that sounds wry
It’s called ‘A slice of Life’
And it’s a piece of creamy fruit pie
I order it immediately
It sounds so cheery bright
It promises of taste and sin
And sounds just about right
I get my pie on a yellow plate
It’s a heaving slice in the center
A long metal spoon to scoop up with
It’s a positive Dementer
The pie has blueberries and apples
Folded cozily in creamy layers
And also hunks of warm custard bread
As some of its major players
It’s soft and spongy and buttery-sweet
And thickened to perfection
The fruit pieces blend in like
Image and reflection
I pick up the last morsel
And savour it with a sigh
I promise to remember this forever…
But I forget it by and by
Many seasons later
I am at a club for drinks,
I am now quite the party animal
Or so everyone around me thinks
I look for ruby concoctions
They are my secret fancy
I like to hear my ice cubes clink
To the feet of people dancing
But today there is something strange
The menu has a new wine
It’s called ‘A slice of Life’
So surreal, I sense, so apt, and so completely mine
I order it and it comes
In an icy, sweaty glass
It has a thick, treacly residue
The color of sun-burnt grass
The slice of life that I had thought
To indicate a gesture divine
Was nothing more than a tubby squish
A squeeze of wet, sour lime
The music fades around me
And I remember a misty dream
A day in time in life in world
A pie with fruits and cream
They say there is rapture
In a sublimity that is unblinking
But the things one understands so well
When you are simply eating and drinking
A slice of life – a slice of life
How it changes so with time
Sometimes it is a cherished pie
Sometimes it is expensive wine
A slice of life – a slice of life
How it pushes perspective to the border
But however unexpected it may turn out
You only get it when you order.
In a purple coffee shop
Wearing smart corduroys
And a flimsy orange top.
I usually just take the largest cup
Of the hottest, strongest brew,
But it’s one of those days when I decide
To check out the menu.
Next to a dried blob of ketchup
Is a dish that sounds wry
It’s called ‘A slice of Life’
And it’s a piece of creamy fruit pie
I order it immediately
It sounds so cheery bright
It promises of taste and sin
And sounds just about right
I get my pie on a yellow plate
It’s a heaving slice in the center
A long metal spoon to scoop up with
It’s a positive Dementer
The pie has blueberries and apples
Folded cozily in creamy layers
And also hunks of warm custard bread
As some of its major players
It’s soft and spongy and buttery-sweet
And thickened to perfection
The fruit pieces blend in like
Image and reflection
I pick up the last morsel
And savour it with a sigh
I promise to remember this forever…
But I forget it by and by
Many seasons later
I am at a club for drinks,
I am now quite the party animal
Or so everyone around me thinks
I look for ruby concoctions
They are my secret fancy
I like to hear my ice cubes clink
To the feet of people dancing
But today there is something strange
The menu has a new wine
It’s called ‘A slice of Life’
So surreal, I sense, so apt, and so completely mine
I order it and it comes
In an icy, sweaty glass
It has a thick, treacly residue
The color of sun-burnt grass
The slice of life that I had thought
To indicate a gesture divine
Was nothing more than a tubby squish
A squeeze of wet, sour lime
The music fades around me
And I remember a misty dream
A day in time in life in world
A pie with fruits and cream
They say there is rapture
In a sublimity that is unblinking
But the things one understands so well
When you are simply eating and drinking
A slice of life – a slice of life
How it changes so with time
Sometimes it is a cherished pie
Sometimes it is expensive wine
A slice of life – a slice of life
How it pushes perspective to the border
But however unexpected it may turn out
You only get it when you order.
Comments
and life would pay no more
no matter i begged at evening
when i counted my scanty store
for life is a just employer
it gives you what you ask
but once you have set the wages
why you must bear the task.
-from a dale carnegie book
and life would pay no more
no matter i begged at evening
when i counted my scanty store
for life is a just employer
it gives you what you ask
but once you have set the wages
why you must bear the task.
-from a dale carnegie book
thanks
Hi anon, thats a nice poem
D...hello,
yes, i do reply to comments, but u know how it is...and no...i didnt think you were disdainful at all. :-D By the way, do I know you?