Dec 2018 14

I don’t dabble with poetry or lyrics much. But in an effort to keep moving forward and try things, I wrote some words down on the streetcar this morning. With a heavy garage rock soundtrack in my headphones and inspired by the rain, the time of year, and fellow commuters, the following tumbled out between Roncesvalles and John St. 

Give it to me raw
Free run
unpasteurized
Unbleached grain
The stem still on

What’s on the secret menu
That’s for me
I’ll take two
Don’t pack it to go
I’ll eat here

All I want is real
All I want is real
Gimme the fruit
I’ll devour the peel

All I want is real
All I want is real
Cloudy, with lumps
The unfiltered deal

Top shoots
Bottom roots
The funky stuff that smells so earthy
The heart
The innards
Blood, 6th toe, and gizzards
Gimme the down
Gimme the dirty

All I want is real
All I want is real
Gimme the fruit
I’ll devour the peel

All I want is real
All I want is real
Cloudy, with lumps
The unfiltered deal