Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Tuesday, April 7, 2015


Behold the gefilte
Is it fish?
It is not
It has no fins, no tail, no gills, no scales
It swims in cold jelly
A lump
Fish lump
Dressed up with limp carrot
Lounging upon pale lettuce
Let us
behold the gefilte.

submitted (late) for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Caution: Tender Buttons


Kerry O'Connor said...

You bring your witty sense of humour to this challenge, LM.

Helena said...

LoL....As the wife of a very keen angler, whose mentioned every god-damned fish alive - I still had to Google it!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...