Juicing the Words
Have you ever met a poem
That upon reading the words you knew
Sight would never be enough?
Have you ever wanted to squeeze
Like an orange?
Let the juice slip down your throat,
Run down your arms,
Drying to a sticky mess;
Smelling, feeling, tasting
Has a poem ever pierced
Slipping under and winding itself
Into the fibers of your muscles,
The marrow of your bones,
Running through your vessels like blood?
If a poem has never shocked you,
Attached itself to your soul.
If you have never juiced the words,
I pity you.