Acne

[pseud]

Please tell me
you don’t mind the texture

of pickled beets,
or gutted cherries.

Promise me you like the feel
of grease solidified on your cheek,

for I am all the flavors
of adobe brick.

And instant mashed potato flakes,
without the milk or butter.

Crushed peas await
with all the grooves

of a cracked record.

[k-j]

Great stuff. Never read a poem about acne before. I think I particularly like it because I've been thinking a lot about pickled beets lately. Anyway, that's good as it is - made me smile.

[dillingworth]

love it. speaker comes across as vulnerable without being pathetic, and i love the physical images of taste and sight you crammed in. brill.

[seeksthebalance]

I like this. I don't whether to laugh or be ill, pickled beets are a crime for which we will all pay in the end! I'd love to know what inspired you to write this.

Seeks.

[pseud]

Middle school.

[Bombadil]

Caleb,

I like it but for the title. To me it was better as an abstract.

Cheers,

Keith

[camus]

Another fine little number.

I had a form of acne in my mid 20's, still bare the scars, fucking ruined my life for a few years.

[pseud]

ahhh don't tell me that. I thought the worst was behind me.

[Bombadil]

heh. mine was worse in my early twenties than it ever was in my teens...

[TilDeathOverTakesMe]

That was brilliant! Suprisingly insightful upon those little, omnipresent worries , for something so unpretensious.