No Refuge, Nor a Friend

CROOK rifled chest to steal every last doubloon
THREW my parchment and my quills in the lagoon
SUAVE he posed with charm yet executed only harm
BEGIN he now and reckon to the end, he’ll find no refuge nor a friend.

Secret smoker

ASHEN burns on ancient brown ash-
TRAYS. Nicotine stains on fingers.
BUGLE warning, hide the stash! Something’s
AMISS! It’s that smoky reek than lingers!

[Turns out that TRAYS should have been TRAIT – my mind playing with homonyms while I wasn’t looking.]

[‘Smoky reek that lingers’ – courtesy of Rupert Brooke]

Fudge and the Wealth of Nations

MOTORing ships course tropics seeking freight, say,
GUAVA; commerce’s electrons dancing in their orbits,
BEGIN, yet never cease, tracing complex traffic of goods, inspiration, expiration of the globe.
FUDGE, mere cottage crop, also turns the gears of trade.

Muddy Roads

1.

GUAVA trees overhead, the road like
FUDGE beneath and now around the tires so that you
BEGIN to despair that the
MOTOR will remain untouched.

2.

GUAVA is sweet and tantalizing, but so is
FUDGE. Different tastes cultivate over time until one
BEGINs to take over as the
MOTOR of your cravings.

See more at Notes by Steven.