Shades & Shadows

Grocery

*Loading Poem*

Passion fruits
Nyama
Cpoking oil

Late night poetry feels like
A list
Me listing
Down emotions
That feel like mist
So clearly
Vague
Like the groping of breasts
I've never
But feel like I've ever
Groped
Imagination is a train
So high on dope-
Amines
It never stops
For even sleep
Ushers it into dreams
I've really never
Groped
Any-fing
But the guilt
Of planting these doubt-
Full things

What was that?
I said c-oo-king oil
Not whatever you wrote
Grope?
I've never
Cooking oil!!
But don't you think
C-po-king oil is
Is like the two eyes
Of a kid with a magnifying glass
Poking at the world
With curiosity?
Like hell!
Imagination is a train
And humour is a jail cell
In the corner of your brain
That we call a sense
But isn't really a sense
Because we have five
Or six, as some pretend
And humour would be seven
But it wouldn't make sense
Because so many don't have it

Am I the only one laughing?

Imagination is a train
And fruit is a passion
Of the Christ
Holy juice!
You didn't know
And just like that
Another piece of useless trivia
Is poemikipedia-d to your brain
I keep telling you
Imagination is a train

And nyama
Would be meat
Man, even thinking about it
Makes me feel like
I want to eat
So what if
That's what it meant
Instead
I want to nyama that bread
So hungry I could nyama
A horse
Over a 3 week period
If horses were chicken
And wishes were horses
The galaxy would be my kitchen
And I'd nyama Orion, Leo
And all their little friends
Hunger
Is a train
And mine just left