Fresh bread

Poem is a fresh bread in street
At evening when sun is a boil.

Sun is fresh bread in morning.
Its taste lingers till after noon

As tar is fresh laid from a fire
And  mixer is hot sun on boil.

Poem is gum boot near ankle
Fresh from snake-black road.

Ankle is knee-deep poem tar
And just back from liquid fire.

Mixer whirs like earth on boil
But liquid tar smells as bread.

Bread smells like fresh poem
From thoughts of tar on boil.

Tar is bitumen off earth’s oil
From tree poems of long ago.

Old trees are a bread in tent
With holes to a  sun on boil.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s