Fish Wish Lips Sipped

Another Poem involving Lemonade

Turpentine drip like
Time might grow chill mold on slow ships.
Slip like River while gentle drivel drips,
Slyly, my swiveled hips and shriveled
Nimble humble trip blips —

Dreamscape noise, and you're a
Bastard, with the boys who think of
Faster days with higher pays and cheaper thrills than
Sour grape reds and Ego death,

But still you have a memory of slower days
With no pay and the cheapest thrills of all:
Mother made lemonade, summer days and basketball.

You wonder whether younger you would worse
Weather weather, whether you'd've wanted
Faster days and pay if you knew
You could do better,

But better yet, you knew better
And all you ever needed was
Mother made lemonade, a summer day and basketball.

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