poetry critical

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Hard Lard
larrylark

The lard was too hard.
 1
“Thar wor a winter so severe
 2
we ‘ad ta tek a bleedin'
 3
pickaxe to it.”
 4
 
 
I dream of building igloos.
 5
Gleam of white outside,
 6
interior wall would ooze,
 7
dripping like dew.
 8
 
 
Eyes stare through steam
 9
to where fat fish stew,
 10
while we dream of Easter
 11
where winter will blow itself out,
 12
snowdrops parch,
 13
among the bleak ides of March
 14
 
 
Meanwhile days chip away.
 15
Light lengthens, glistens on a lawn
 16
daubed with frosted mist,
 17
while the ghost of last nights lard,
 18
congealed  in the pan,
 19
tightens its fist like grip.
 20

13 Feb 11

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uh uh
 — unknown

S3 is a winner

(not larry looking for a 10 lark)
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thats the way uh  uh uh uh i like it uh uh uh uh

Larry uh uh uh uh Lark (unknown to almost everybody)
 — larrylark

Go on unknown...you know it makes sense

Larry senseless Lark
 — larrylark

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