For eight days, I'd rent my soles
On rocky roads. I came to Charles-king.
– In the Green Room: requested bread
And butter, loafs of half-cold ham.
Content, I stretched my own hams
Underneath the table, also green:
I mused on the worn out themes
Of the tapestries. – And it was delicious,
When the girl with giant tits
And vivid eyes,
– It's not a kiss that scares her –
The feisty one, brought me buttered
Toast and tepid ham, on a blue plate,
Rosy, white ham redolent of garlic
Cloves – and filled me a tankard brimming
With suds struck gold in the setting sun.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment