Badderlocks

The badderlocks
are served for dinner
dredged up from the deep
sucked out of the ocean depths
I sulk over dinner
this isn't fillet mignon
it's not even lobster
couldn't they bring that up instead
they used my poems for bait
and this is all they caught
I never did
learn how to write
for my dinner
I bake my books
and eat the pages for supper
and wash it down with
ice water... salted
chilled ocean
my tongue swells
I prepare balm
of badderlocks
and am cured...

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