Food for Thought
I could never be a chef.
Preparing creations
that will merely be
consumed.
If I were a chef,
I'd have to create dishes
that required chewing
and chewing
and chewing.
I'd find it better for my dishes
to be destroyed
in the mouth.
Remembered for their difficulty,
even their unpleasantness,
than easily swallowed.
Digested without effort.
Forgotten as shit.
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Other stories by Emily Sparkles
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Sheila Luecht's story has inspired me to write a poem about cooking turkey.
I think this will inspire me too.
*
The last two lines. **
"...chewing and chewing and chewing." Someone was thinking of you whilst inventing the taco salad? *
A fine conceit.
Thank you all for reading and your feedback. It means the world.
...chewing and chewing and chewing*
*
Very amusing--to chew on--oops, oops, gotta go now: cuz I gotta go!
Love the realism in this! *
I had a band named Food.*
Yup. Made me think. Bravo.
You are all far too kind, but I appreciate every drop of feedback. Happy to provide a little chewing fodder.