Poem -
Glace
in lifes pickles,
I've trickled..
one day
I may be not so
lucky and end up
in a bowl of chutney..
or worse..
of course..
Life is not
A pot of cherries..
it's a pot of snot..
with the odd
hiccup..
for going at it..
too fast, or too slow..
and choking on
your own gusto
or lack of.
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Comments
(the best sweetest most desirable cherries were the bowl eaten in a bar in Albania, 2003, Vuno...as there was NOTHING else to eat remotely akin to normal diet...it was an oasis in an alien dessert and I ate them like hot cakes)