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Image for the poem Crispy Skin

Crispy Skin

 
 
My love of Chinese takeout as a sin,
I hoard a soy sauce packet when I can.
I order Cantonese, then Mandarin,
All fortune cookies compliments of Chan.
 
I met the master chef when I was ten.
My love of Chinese takeout as a sin,
When every Friday night I had a yen
For chicken wonton fried in crispy skin.
 
If I think it’s the last, I’ll start again
To pig out on his Peking Duck and see
My love of Chinese takeout as a sin
Begins as egg drop soup & ends as tea.

His sweet and sour shrimp per a la carte
Will take a tastebud where it hasn’t been.
To isolate and eat becomes an art
My love of Chinese takeout as a sin.
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
Published | Edited 5th Apr 2020
Author's Note
Day 4 of 30
As food runs low, the frequency of being hungry has me think when I used to simply place a call to have my favorite meals delivered.
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