2 Poems by Patrick Theron Erickson

snail
.
A Late Dinner
.
In a calculated
late-night imitation of a snail
in a slow crawl across pavement
.
a smile smears
across your face
smears your pancake makeup
.
or is it a sneer
your mouth
a snarl of flesh
.
your tongue
trailing behind after
 .
licking the mucous
from your lips
.
the butter
the parsley
the garlic
last night’s escargot
.
your demented dinner guest’s
aftertaste
.
sucking out
the convoluted snail shells
with your convex tongue
one by one?
.
Tax Season
.
Ensconced
at the dining room table
.
my spreadsheets
before me
.
like the sliding glass doors
I’m easily sidetracked
.
I’ve slipped
into a rut
.
The trees from which
the spreadsheets come
are substantive
with their profusion of leaves
.
their sea of leaves
like any sea
stirred by the wind
wave upon wave
.
I must confess
I’m at sea myself
.
in a small craft
with no small craft warning
 .
And more than my taxes
are in arrears.
.
pat
Patrick Theron Erickson, a resident of Garland, Texas, a Tree City, just south of Duck Creek, is a retired parish pastor put out to pasture himself. His work has appeared in Grey Sparrow Journal, Cobalt Review, and Burningword Literary Journal, among other publications, and more recently in Ginosko Literary Journal, Former People, The Main Street Rag, and Tipton Poetry Journal.

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