Devoid of blues it flairs hot tubed, into cold wet, gritty mineral soaked tomb.
Probing deeper, the glacier slow nudges of strawberry blond, hairy nose
suck nutritious, mineral cool-aid in exchange for more room. Moleing
to China with remarkable strength, its sunny complexion disguises
such pluck. Vitamin vision guides these blind obelisks deep into
  loamy, unknown, dusk colored thoughts. Up above where we
live, green summer tassels now lie withered and tattered,
leaving invisible footer, crunchy treasure to be struck,
storehouse of energy invested for next years flower.

A dozen such creatures exhumed and washed clean
of dark dirt, glow un-naturally bright as a Malibu
sunset. Centrifugal power drains sweet, carotene
packed essence from these brawny tools.
Before I drink I behold this story of
hidden motion underfoot; lean
salubrious gilded towers
grow beneath, beacons
plugging strength
from within
quiet, rich


Technorati tags- carrots, poem, carrot juice

10 thoughts on “Gulp

  1. A visual punch and lyrical punch. Wow. May I say I especial love the layout of the poem. I’ve got carrots on the mind now 🙂

Comments are closed.