First Gong Vol. 8: Thrust FIRST GONG 8 THRUST | Page 170

Bride’s sister flung in air
Like a piece of clothing
“All you single ladies!”
Touché.
Row-mance
Life is hard in a ‘corn-dorm’
Square ‘roots’ in round pegs
Tree, lumberjack at loggerheads
“She stepped tom-a‘toes’ ”
“Where did you po-ta‘toes’?”
“Onion” head... ‘mush’-room there.
“If I ‘cashew.’!”
‘Fowl’ play
Every inch of pain nailed to this coffin
Layers of bruises concealed by lacquer finishing
Like lies foundation tries to makeup
‘Stigma’ borne in ‘style’
Padre was a ‘nut’ case
a ‘thorn’ in the ‘stem’.
Nature’s call
Here, friends gather like dark clouds
Neither for Padre nor the tree he loved
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