Poem: Metaphor Motel

 

Metaphor Motel

by Shannon Laws

 

To break your dry spell
Select a stranger well-formed
absent of rust
Consider the servings
and portions of the meal

Ready the pan, prime the pump
Rest.
Repeat.

Visit the mill together
Break down the wheat
‘til flour dusts the air

Mix with matted hair, various dibbles,
and the sweaty sheets of two queen beds
Smash together until your nose bleeds
and one of you vomits

Pour into grocery store parking lot
Bake 350 degrees, one hour

Confirm only the crow sees you
You should be sore in the morning
No breakfast, just a light rain