Dirty Little Secret
Screaming brick of cream
filled joy, crack my temple
so I can lick my lips and love it
as the filling rolls down.
Does this flavour have a name?
Does this place have a flavour?
Probably not one you could
order in the finer places, but
a nice familiar feel to it anyway.
Hovering in the night before
me, it makes me want a taste just
so I can say I did, although I
already know it will be a let down.
Desperate quest to leave an
impact despite evidence nothing
lasts, only crumbling castles
and forgotten graves contradict.
Why do we smile over babies?
Why do babies smile up at us?
Joy overflows, next generation
glimpsed, if not really seen, through
a face that will one day forget us.
Dirty little secret no one will
whisper even for a dollar, even at
that age, "Don't get too comfortable,
I think you're standing in my place."
-- Steve McKennon
October 10, 2003