and so bluew my fried potato

...


outside
contemplating my abililty to further
ingest, digest
a lunch,
it's remnants soaking the cardboard box with grease
my stomach uneased

unknown to my stale delicacy
a pair of eyes, eyes my fries
slowly landing, on the stone table, hesitating
i made no pretense of not being there
i wondered if he'd dare
what risk he'd take
for ketchup's sake
he might end up as red

without need to offer
he took a long piece of soggy potato
turned his head, as if to say, "Yo!"
and with his blue wings, flew


...
sumalangitnawa
june first, a day filled with poetic surprises, 2001