Poem: “Put the Peach Ripe”, notebooks, Jim Stallings

Put the peach ripe

On the table

In the sunlight

The circle of brightness


Where the knife flash

Falls across & through

The rosy red yellow

Apparition fuzzy

With pretension

To tastes delicious

Beyond mortal fare

In its sweet soft gush

Your tawdry dreams

Fulfilled beyond all measure

Of good- or deserved-ness,

And all this & more,

In a ripened peach.


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Filed under erotica, first thought, flash poetry, poetry, prose poetry, works in progress

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