Stir Fry





Stir me, fry me ... with a few drops of oil


Be quick about it too, so things won't spoil


Turn up the heat, sprinkle in the spices & sauce


Better do it good, while the heat is high, and claws





You let out to scrape my back with your sharp nails


Now edge down from neck to buttocks, as skin wails


And I cry out for your gentle, tender and loving kiss


To touch me there as my heart longs to hear the bliss





Which runs through your body, soul, spirit and mind


But your heart's no longer in it, for you've become blind 


To the good food we stirred up in that huge wok together


And now things spatter up at me as my shoes get tighter





For the swelling in my feet reflects the weight which pulls


Us apart as you go on with your busy life filled with tools


Of your art and craft, which leaves so little room for me


As now I wonder if we can ever put back together our glee





And serve that stir-fry dish which we planned to share


The one in which you enjoined me and took over my lair


Have you forgotten your plans sketched in recent days?


The ones which clearly stated so eleoquently the plays





You had in mind to organize and decorate the hutch


You were so into it - I finally felt so secure, as much


Of what you envisioned had that very permanent feel


I was riding so high on ideas which you burned into steel





As the wok cooked away its hot, spicy and tasty contents


And I gazed at it and sniffed the air gently to smell the blend


So much of it looked so good - my heart was beginning to mend


And now you have turned it all out and I wonder - is this the end?





Christopher W. Thomas


1:50pm Monday 11/10/97