A Cajun capsicum creates a hot
Constriction in my chest. Thin blood will flush
My pallid face and my heart will begin
To race within the tightening bands. Again
I’ve sought the pyrrhic pod’s rich plasmic rush.
Cayenne’s conflagrant charm has me besot.
Enticed by this, I’m drawn against my will;
Picante sirens sing me back anew
And set afire my belly. Magma heat
Ignites sweet pain I hate but know is meet;
Yet mild and peaceful life I too eschew,
For I should miss the pepper’s fiery thrill.
Would lusty Pan with silent pipes just sit
While spiced cabrito turns above the pit?
© Copyright 2021 Tyler Beechwood. All rights reserved.
Poem / Romance
Poem / Humor
Poem / Poetry