Voodoo Doughnuts

Voodoo Doughnuts

trying to write this poem
is not easy
as I search with myopic eyes 
among barren February branches
for signs of new growth
forgetting what I am searching for

what should I inscribe 
on my taphos?
brief highlights, stumblings
from my long philosophical odyssey
now reduced to
an existential search
for the Krispy Kreme
hot sign of the soul
my life a plenitude of pluperfects

No staid bland pale glazed hardened
lumps of limpid unleavened dough
for me
no no no
for I have sailed to Portland
in my thick-oaked black ship
and stand before
purple steaming fresh rapacious
voodoo donuts
the line at 2 a.m. twenty feet long
the brazen booming bass line
vibrating my chest
my soul
the purple haired insouciant sybaritic
punk rocker girl with pierced nostrils
behind  the counter asking,
taunting me
“What do you want?”

         Glenn Feole

         March, 2016

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