This poem was inspired by the vile thoughts running around my head on the 30th of July, 2008. Oaths are tasty. They just didn’t cook it right.
Oaths are Tasty
By Pol Arellano
I’ve always thought
That oaths were something that you cannot
Trap under
Beautiful effigies and numbered claps and that
They were tasty beyond belief.
More intimate than red hot kisses
Underneath damp mattresses that
Rumple and cringe
To the very thought of intimacy
“Not again,” they’d think with their mattress minds.
But, sir yes sir, they are damn tasty.
Oaths are tasty
Tasty beyond belief
Tasty beyond damn belief, sir
Oh, you beg to disagree?
You must have been cooking them the wrong way, then.
Pol Arellano 