Category archives: Vindaloo
Discussions of the spice of life, spices, and/or life.
Smoke Escapes
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
A smokestack rises
There across the city
But the air is too cold
The smoke cannot escape
It falls back to the earth
A Ruined Nap (But a very pleasant meal)
Written by
on
in
Snaking,
Vindaloo.
Tried to take a nap this afternoon, but the bleeping phone kept ringing. Apparently Rose decided it would be cute to wake me up by calling the house phone from her cell every 15 minutes. Unfortunately, I really needed the sleep.
Luckily, the reason she was wanting to wake me up is because Shiva and ...
The Untapped Well in the Back Field
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
I can't share it with you
Because it all comes back
As heart-sticking recrimination
And randomly slung blame
That deepest strata of feelings
Below everything I ever was
Where heat and pressure
Applied over geologic time
Turns all to a black muck
Formless and half-forgotten
Clinging to whatever it touches
Burning whenever it feels the ...
A Perfect Day (rev)
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
The first drops of a summer thunderstorm
Roll off my battered old trench coat
The doors and windows are open to the wind
Clearing the black smoke from the air
You've been playing with your toys again
Building robots from magnets in old TVs
The storm builds outside the empty windows
As your Frankenstein creation ...
All Barmaids are Beautiful
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
Is it that all barmaids are beautiful
Or that beautiful barmaids get the best tips
So the beautiful do better than the plain
Driving them out of the field
Like some pretty deadly weeds
Or is it just a job for the young
So youth shines from their hearts
Obscuring any flaws that might be ...
Strategic Feathers
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
Her plumage worked I'll admit
It's not that I could not look away
Or so I want to tell myself
I had to figure it out
Was it really that revealing
Just some strategic feathers
How could she wear that
In a Canadian winter
Sad People on the Train
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
Sad people on the train
I wish I could share my eyes
To show you how wonderful
How magnificent you are
Don't you see the potential
In each troubled heart
To reach for another
To reach for the stars
Your sad cattle faces
Are not worthy of your souls
A Few Short Hours
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
In a few short hours
I see more beauty
Than I see in weeks
Yet it is all hollow
Seeing only
Never touching
Nor even talking
So what is gained
Yet still I'd rather see
More within the weeks
My Released Eyes
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
In the cafe this evening
There was a beautiful lass
For a few moments
She trapped my wayward eyes
Yet when I returned to my table
She'd turned herself plain
And did not my eyes trap again
Eyes of the Pretty People
Written by
on
in
Vindaloo.
The vacuous eyes of the pretty people
Stare at me from glossy posters
Trying to entice me
Seemingly unaware that they disgust me
Because at some deep-seated level
I am enticed
Mike C. Fletcher, the VRPlumber, is a philosopher of design turned computer programmer based in Toronto, Canada. He works primarily in the Python programming language, and maintains a large number of Open Source software packages. You can reach him at: mcfletch@vrplumber.com.