Monday, January 5, 2015

Soul Food: Eating One's Heart Out

Let’s get one thing clear, chéri— 
Some brainless poetasters say
You should never, ever serve 
Soul in a poem as the main entrée, 
With spirit and heart 
As side orders, all taboo 
For offal-eating fools dying 
To eat their words 
And have them too, a tad bit 
Too tasteless for the likes of me 
And you?



  1. Nice of you to drop by this old victualer's greecey (sic) spoon ; even nicer to hear the fare went down well.

    1. And it's nice to always receive such a warm welcome and excellent service. I'll drop by for some more.

  2. poetasters check for poison in the verse...invaluable when dead.

  3. Perhaps it's time to resuscitate an old, albeit at times distasteful profession--the food taster!


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