Berlin Poems : Sitting in the rare sun outside LPG bio Mart grocery store wondering if this bottle of red Zinfandel that i found on the curb is a poem ….also while Feeling homesick for California.
Red rose Zinfandel on the the curb,
By Jedidiah Jackson
I was parking my bike so I picked it up the color was the Same as my ppp this morning
It’s very pretty red.
Oh, and pretty scary in the toilet bowl
Is this a poem?
I am ok
I was eating beets last night,
is a meal a poem ?
Cooling in steam,
Slicing mozzarella, miniature corn, raviolis, folded over something delicious
24 torsos pinched together first and second chakra Chi
Life is poem
Balancing the moon with the size of the sun, a woman named Leslie in Copenhagen 1930 opens an atom
Spinning orbits, and having grace
technically, life is also the underside of every pigeons wing flapping flying for its life
As the fox is sprinting for it’s meal
The poem is pervasive
Yet the poetry section trends to suck
walking with my hands behind my back doesn’t make me a pigeon
Holding a half empty bottle of rose Zinfandel from the California Golden gate in a cold in Berlin sunny day is not really a poem
The glass touching condensation is a poem
The light through the rose of course is poetic
We all know a caterpillar meta-Morphis sizes
The poem is that
Becoming decay, changing radiating ultra pure, tarnished, shadow sulfur inhale
Exhale
Office chair, posturepedicure alignment
When does an email become a poem?
This poem becomes when there are no more questions, and it’s just a through line every atom connected to the center of the javelin beast jowls like a rooster mohawk to poisonous berries, winter colors dark red the wine is lighter with the sun, still cold on a Monday someone was drinking modestly Sunday night
