bakers at play with clay

vogonpoetbythelake

Divine stroked kneadings and colour palette alterations left to the measure of the cone
attentively traced and embraced
tinking, winking, cooling and cracking
ocean air at its smellorific height beyond first scent
a homecoming greeting wafts through an open door to safe harbour
drum skin dubs the day glorious
wits end unexposed, transposed, expressed in bless-ed bringing forth of talents unbidden
fabulously slow arousal of the drum and dream that has made it home
a sanctuary for expression of desires and longings
a new AM-E-RICA
rich for the knowing you, better from what was not good enough
enough to be bored with WAR!
can we not be bored with war already? she says
her nasal drone unfortunately not from the throne
only the thrown tossed at sea
like polk salad with too much salt