deepundergroundpoetry.com
JENGIBRE CALIENTE
pantry packed with ingredients wilder
shelves stocked with tin cans missing their label
prefer my peppers and salsa milder
shocking intestinal jumper cable
reflux recurring, taste buds disable
her spicerack ingredients: overused
was raised to be stable at the table
my esophogus smoking, tonsils bruised
overly sauced, jalepeno infused
her table is set with ware informal
(asked to leave table, but was not excused)
our meals border on the paranormal
chewing, methodic, digesting, steady
asks, "Is it time for dessert already?"
shelves stocked with tin cans missing their label
prefer my peppers and salsa milder
shocking intestinal jumper cable
reflux recurring, taste buds disable
her spicerack ingredients: overused
was raised to be stable at the table
my esophogus smoking, tonsils bruised
overly sauced, jalepeno infused
her table is set with ware informal
(asked to leave table, but was not excused)
our meals border on the paranormal
chewing, methodic, digesting, steady
asks, "Is it time for dessert already?"
Published 22nd Sep 2017
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23rd Sep 2017 4:11am
I get the feeling that this poem was meant to be spoken word; my inner monologue read it in the vein of a Flobots song. Either way, I really enjoyed it--what a visceral description of suffering through way-too-hot food. Nice write, and welcome to the party =]
23rd Sep 2017 1:14pm
Yes, it was written with 'performance piece' in mind. And I'll let you in on a little secret: I divorced a couple of years ago after 20 years of marriage. Was extremely timid to re-enter the dating pool. My very first 'date' after a couple of decades was an extremely fiesty redhead... which led to the above...
