Everything I once
thought is not 
or wasn’t meant 
to be or
to last or
something like that 
and now this 
a porridge of
sorts an amalgamation 
and things rise
like vegetables in 
a pot and 
stir I do 
up they come 
added for reason 
color or texture 
but flavor nah
for at this 
late stage of 
life most things 
taste the same 

I had
a house 
years ago 
on a
dead end 
still there
it sits 
the neighborhood 
haunted house 
that kids
avoid and 
adults complain 
ghostly ghouls 
walk around 
memories of 
happier days 
long gone 

Yum yum
gimme some 
it goes 
down hot
and warms
inside out
one small 
cup and 
fill’er up
that’s all 
I need 
of love 

I have plenty 
plenty of this 
plenty of that
of love of
food of water 
and of warmth 
why then is
plenty not enough 
plenty sounds luxurious 
whilst enough sounds 
like I’ve settled 
enough love enough 
food enough water 
is enough this 
side of scarcity 
and on the
way to plenty 
did I take 
a wrong turn 
the wrong exit 
or direction no
this enough that 
I have is
plenty for me 

Do I dare
set foot there
outside of blanket 
without a care
the kitchen’s where 
to concoct elixir 
teaspoons of rare
beans laid bare
ground to bits 
then I sip