Uncle Joe-a poem

Uncle Joe

Fingers rotate.
Mouth salivates.
This is a difficult moment to prolong.

To unwrap the paper is to unwrap the thoughts
That only he can solve,
And one wonders if he wants to part with the answers.
With each suck reality is suspended,
Just a little.

Reflection never tasted so good.
Pure good.

How many mysteries can be solved by a jar?
Cream of tartar, pure cane sugar, oil of peppermint,
He had it all figured out so long ago

At that moment when the sweet becomes a mint,
I laugh, knowing I’ll need another before the day is through
And he laughs at the sucker who fell for his tune

:)