Half Drunk Muse Poetry


Daffodils for Breakfast by Ashok Niyogi

Seven yellow daffodils,
With plant-food
In a crystal vase,
I stare
At seven yellow daffodils.

Translucent outer petals
Pale and thinly veined,
Like the fair wrists
Of a Bengali lady
Of pedigree.

The inner petal
Of denser hue,
Tubular, bulging at the base,
Funneling and flaring
Like a horse in a race,
Or maybe an inverted Victorian gown
Bordered with lace.

And then,
The mystery of the pistil,
Pregnant with organized pollen,
Straight and narrow like a shotgun mike.

A tendril inside the pistil
Smells like room freshener, atomized
For arctic ozone holes.

The refrigerator whirs back to life,
Milk from Costco will expire today,
Breakfast has to be grits.

View bio for Ashok Niyogi Published in Spring and Summer 2005

About HDM

Half Drunk Muse was one of the first poetry ezines. It was founded in 1999 and ceased publication in 2006.

Questions/comments? Email samiller@halfdrunkmuse.com.