If I could I would live on words.
I would chew grainy words like pumpernickel, lick
slick words that slip against the tongue
and melt like lilikoi
(luscious Hawaaian ice-upon--a-stick).
Nor would I live on food words only
but feast on all the savory
flavored dictionary words
the meaty ones like buxom and contemplate
seasoned with peppery sprinkles
of quip and apple
and I would nibble the edges
of flat round cookies of extrapolate, reforestation
and tickle my palate with perfumed words:
Aldebaran, oriental, satin.
I would open Webster's unabridged
and grow fat on specious, unadulterated, irresolution.
Never never would I grow hungry.
I would give thanks to the great god Gutenberg
and lay me down to sleep
after I sip a soothing drink brewed from
soporific, subliminal,and seraphim
and I will dream of books and libraries
burgeoning with sustenance.