Neapolitan

Standard

.

Bigger than a belly

He can taste their hurt

As he goes for dessert

again and again

Always the pudding

One more sweet treat.

A sprinkled tart

with a tiny

sugar lattice

blow-torched heart.

 

Prick now with

Silver plated pointy spoon

dipped in moon glow

bathed

swooned

Crush to rust

Dust with edible glitter

Lush gushed and pierced

Flushed fleece, not fierce

Gently whipped

soft thrust.

Hold still in mouth

until

ready to

ripple

 

shallow


He won’t smart.

His wickedness

is in his dreams.

Neapolitan for the un-decided

the grand misguided

Ice Crèmed Theft.

Doesn’t bode well

To those who are left.

 

Strawberry strickened sycophant

Chocolate serving arrogant one.

Vanilla thickened gluttony gloop

Scooped and jumped through

insipid hoops.

In tub soon to be drip-coned.

Rub into salty wafered wound

fanned

on loan

alone

disowned

 

Finish off

with

custard-slice

.

nice

Advertisements

5 responses »

  1. Wow – I love this. So many tartly delicious phrases to surround the “blow-torched heart.
    I wrote a cake-y one recently, and realised after that it was perhaps somewhat influenced by your style! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s