Thursday, March 27, 2008

The king of the kitchen
has fried himself into a corner.
In the last remaining steps of life
sizzled flesh melts to the floor.


Noah The Great said...

Ooh, that last line caught me off guard!

ozymandiaz said...


janetleigh said...

This one smokes!
Brian, you're back?! If you are, that's great!
I missed you.

writerwoman said...

That one leaves me thinking I need to become a wiser person so I don't end up with that sort of fate.

Fireblossom said...

Hmm, long fry the King. I once wrote a poem called The Queen Of Catalpa Street...perhaps they should meet.

This reminds me of Russel Edson. ("The Wounded Breakfast") A sort of dream-like and ill fated otherworld. And darkly homourous as well.