After Taste - Dec 9 2023

 

After Taste

Dec 9 2023

The co-existence

of savoury and sweet.

I suspect I have the two in me,

both competing

and complementary.

As well some salt in the wounds

and a host of bitter dregs,

hoarded

and expressed as entitlement.

Does my love of vinegar

say something telling?

How it excites the tongue,

its tingle of astringency

cuts through

the cloying aftertaste.

But as I sour on myself

find I’m reverting to bland.

Smell has waned

taste numbed;

like cardboard

in a dry mouth

hard not to choke on.

So why this craving for sweet

so late in life?

And how demoralizing to recall

how over-ripe fruit falls

of its own accord.

How its sweetness ferments

flesh turns

as it returns to the soil.

How everything ends

in worm food,

the stench of decomposition

the earthy smell of loam.

Trying something a lot less linear than usual.

This is not natural for me. My mind prefers logic and order.

But I'd prefer to move away from that, because what my poetry generally lacks is the ambiguity that gives the reader room, not to mention invites rereading.

     . . . Trouble is, as I edited, it ended up becoming too much as usual!