deepundergroundpoetry.com

These Microwave meals are making me hungry for something

These microwave meals,
of which i need to eat two
in order to feal fed,
are testing my patience
along with today's show
today's poetry
and today.

The dry rice that tastes
like its been sat next to a few hundred
over friendly baked beans
makes me think of how sad
I've seen women become
at the dawn of their menstrual cycle.

The slithers of pepper
that feel like plastic
at the back of the throat
make me think of young lust
when I surprised them
with how far they wanted to go
when they didn't think to keep trim.

This filthy food
that leaves my stomach's planning comittee
drawing up plans for the next emergency evacuation.

There's a mince pie on the table,
I'll think of burying my nose in to her hair
so I can soak up her scent
and pretend for a second
that she's mine forever
and that I'll never crave for anyone else.
Yeah right!
I'm a man who will forever want anything
that is absent.
I will see the fantasy of it in strangers
until one day I follow them home at night
and land myself in a cell.

That one came from the pink slithers
of hand pulled chicken swimming
in a crimson sauce.

Anyhow, if I haven't said anything else
I've told you all why I usually
cook for myself.
Written by CruelHandedWriter (Panama Judas)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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