I Taste Everything

I was a baby eating flowers

until soft fingers dug

the colour

from my mouth.

Mud-pies when I was two

but they pinched my cheeks

and yelled at me to


Dog food at five,


no-one knew.

At ten I smoked grass from the rabbit cage,

rolled in newspaper,

so cool!

 8 cigarettes in a row,

when I was 12

and threw up all night long.

I suck shells from the beach now,

the taste of salt,

I like it.

I taste everything.

If I am to be on Earth,

I feel

It is the least I can do.

59 thoughts on “I Taste Everything”

  1. I remember eating the heads off burnt matchbook matches that I found in the grass at an outdoor concert….they were salty. How old was I? I remember my daughter twenty years ago picking up worms in the driveway after a rainstorm…and kissing them.


  2. Ha! Be careful! It is interesting to be one with stuff–but some things are toxic. I remember once almost poisoning myself by accident with an herb I was taking medicinally–awful! Very clever poem. K.


  3. You did all that for real? Amazing! It’s surprising you didn’t drop dead. Smiles! Life is worth exploring, you are not alone in tasting everything! Lovely post. Should have a label bearing in bold letters “KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN”


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