A Noise Between the Salads

It could be the
disgruntled sound of carnivores
having lost this argument,

or lettuce leaves
rustling in the alfresco breeze of
summer’s lighter eating.

But radishes are crunched;
celery the same: maybe the Granny Smiths
sliced like a delicacy

remain sour. Not
Misophonia, yet the
phonics of paradox

in a world at crisis

 

 

Mike Ferguson

 

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