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This writing is publishe in the May 2010 issue (v208) of cc&d magazine. To order this, click on the link below:

Order this writing in the book (bound) cc&d poetry edition		order the 5.5" x 8.5" ISSN# book order the 8.5" x 11" ISBN# book

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Right Place

Paul Handley

Ice green tea and prosciutto rolls,
bedecked with gruyere cheese bits
crumbled from a wedge of a wheel
that hung in a basement,
which is not the same as a cellar.
Look it up.
The tea in the mandatory
cup holder is meant to prevent
a breakout of road rash
due to a special concert of caffeine derivatives.

The rolls on wax paper beside me
in the passenger seat,
are smudged DUI thumbprints,
less personal ridges from the grease,
reminding me to lick my fingers.


The second coming has been foretold
numerous times, while this treat,
unforeseen even by Nostradamus,
albeit partly due to its triviality.
Still, I’m engaged in an act that is luxurious privilege,
beyond a concept, for millions of years
and I am atop of that apex.

Crumple the wax paper and toss it to
the floor mat, tip my head back to
get the last droplet to dab my
gelatinous slicked throat.
Savoring this unearned triumph
like eye color or USA chants.

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