David L White

Frog Jelly Soup

 

FrogJellySoup

Frog Jelly Soup

Afraid she might jump,
in escalating temperatures,
a frog boils slowly,
consommé in the pot

in the basting, simmering,
and frequent stirring of an
ongoing accident tragedy,
Can’t. Actually. Look. Away.

the parenting, modeling, whatever,
sweet meat falling off the bones,
bones chucked out in to
the compost heap

spare the rod, boil the child
grooming the tadpole
on a back burner
slowly down low

for the tight, wet, frog leather
stretched for what ever pleasure,
washing the dishes,
dogs, cars, gardening
and fine as frog’s hair

done up for an elegant
evening gown on the town,
holding hands in those frog skin
gloves and all the love that
went into them,
years of tears … and …

as long as he’s not too mean
doesn’t turn up the heat,
basting frequently, the
warm liquid lulling to sleep,
consenting to non
and on and on

Appetizers, aperitif and
dessert afterwards …
your table reserved.
Dinner is served.

Similar recipes
See also:
Poaching the Toad

________________________
poem
January 29-ish 2018