There's a weirdness to the food poets eat:
many move from plate to plate
combining foods, comparing flavors
& inventing dishes
ordinary folks kunsider effete
Indeed, most are queer in matters ah taste:
raving about cranberries in absinthe
while moving from free verse to sonnets
or digesting shaved lemon peels
with garlic flakes
Forgive them if they gerp:
most have a tendency toward
verbal gluttony
which is relieved
when fresh air meets
unexpected meaning
At the banquet of poetry
the distinction between poison & food
is often hard to make
and as some gorge on sharp olives
others chew on rare implications
while most avoid obscure grapes
