Monday, February 24, 2014

A Kiln Sitting Poem

Waiting for the cones to fall
Gives me time to think
The world is big and I am small
And I could use a drink.

Inside the kiln the flames they roar.
The glazes flux and flow.
And I, outside, begin to snore
Before I even know

That I'm asleep. But I must be
Because when I'm awak-ed
People tend to notice me
If I'm in public, naked.

Or anyway, I think they would,
Not that I would know!
I guess that now I prob'ly should
Go check the peephole's glow.

Those bloody cones, like soldiers, they.
Standing straight and tall.
When, o when, I sit and pray
Will those fuckers fall?

6 comments:

Carol said...

Hahaaa, love it!

smartcat said...

Well said!

- Cindy - said...

This needs to be put to music so we can sing it around the kiln...

Sheri Bare said...

That is great!!

schray said...

I'll have what your drinking

schray said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
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