hiding behind marshmallow clouds
descending into madness at midnight
I pull pieces of bread from my pockets
feeding them to my soul
in the morning I take tylenol
and pour raw milk onto a
bowl of rice krispies
listening to vague childhood memories
in the middle of the afternoon the full
moon hides behind marshmallow clouds
my conscience reminding me
(as I fall into a self-induced slumber)
how everything becomes edible in the end
november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
I love this like crazy, J!!!
thank you so much, Shawna
it’s lovely J Matthews
thank you very much, Lara
Your poetry fills an interesting spot in my mind. I also like the format you’ve chosen to display it in.
Thank you for taking the time to visit my little poetry world, and also for your sharing your thoughts with me. I remember your blog and plan to revisit again.
I call the clouds, marshmallows too! I have thought this since I was a kid.
I don’t think I’ll stop interpreting the shapes of clouds….
I agree, Clouds are like magic forms. They are fascinating.
Great poem… such a marvelous last stanza… sending best wishes. 🌟
Thank you so much, Amalia – best wishes right back