Poetry / Biscuit Pursuit

I ate the biscuit though mother said to leave it
After the crumbs fell I ran from the room, naked in my grief
Sunlight’s declaration stood me in the lineup while nagging mothers
Wagged lingering fingers, “Jam and no biscuit, jam and no biscuit
You little shit”.

Mommy, flog my conscience with your ladle
Spike my punch with the Munchkins and Dorothy
While I eat rice crispy dreams and drink unsweetened lemons
Here on the floor of my youthful memories

Mother said not to eat the biscuit
Like the bad-boy artist of another era
I shot mystery glances toward the cat-glasses portrait of Mother
As my fingers gleaned that biscuit with perfect charm

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