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Confessions of Pistachio Pudding

The pudding said to the whipped cream 
"I love the way you feel on top of me... 
all light and sugary...but I have a confession 
I was not always a bowl of Pistachio Pudding 
I used to be Lancelot 
And 
I suspect you were once Guinevere 
I suspect that maybe Dave Matthews 
Was once Mozart 
I suspect that writers reciprocally 
create the same masterpieces over and over again 
Just changing them 
But leaving the same message 
and thus "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," became "Satellite" 
I suspect that possibly Arthur Laurents was William Shakespeare and that's why 
Westside Story and Romeo and Juliet are so similar 
I suspect a lot of things that animate objects would never suspect 
When your inanimate you see things others can't 
and so my delectable whipped cream 
I suspect I have known you before 

Confessions of a Blowtorch

The Blowtorch said to the Steel 
“I am going to enjoy this 
More than you know 
Believe you me 
We reap what we sow 
Like bright burning fire turns wood to gray ashes 
Like a Singapore criminal that gets thirteen lashes 
It is now my turn 
to burn into you 
For three past lives 
I suffered through 
You were rubber 
while I was glue 
You were the slaughterhouse 
while I cried out “Moo!” 
You were the white man 
And my people the Sioux 
But the past is the past 
We start a new 
And this is my turn “to do” 
what I do 
Like kismet karma on a merry-go-round 
The truth is false 
The lost is found 
I burn you steel 
I feel your pain 
I’ve cried your cry 
I feel no shame.” 

It should be ironically noted that the steel was in no way hurt or bothered by the 
flame of the blow torch 

Excerpt from: The Chemicals Between Us
By: Joseph DeMarco

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