Monday, October 21, 2013

Procrastinator's Stew



Paging through color photos
Mysteriously coded instructions
Appearing as gibberish
To a clouded mind,
Growling stomach
Frustrated by epic long lists
Of foreign ingredients
Evading a sad larder
Crying out
For a farmer’s market fix,
Spice market sit-in
Butcher’s brawl,
Baker’s punching bowl,
Begging for an air-drop
Into a cramped kitchen
With a half-hour
Til company arrives
Time only for
Speed-dial,
A quick Ciao
And a pick up
Of Italian carry-out



4 comments:

  1. Humor and poetry saves the day. I would stare blankly at foreign ingredients myself.

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  2. Speed dial, huh? Better than the pizza place. Fun poem.

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  3. Yeah, this would be me, except--too poor for take-out--I'd be getting out the Ritz & peanut butter.

    My response to the same prompt: http://rlavalette.wordpress.com/2013/10/18/the-bad-son/

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