Friday, February 24, 2012

Poetry


Sustenance
by SuniD
 
Little chickens broil
and the peace simmers
like a part-time chef
who enjoys the rush
because the dull moments allow
him time to think
about home spun meals.

The line-cook toils,
getting thinner,
because he doesn’t get
the people who grow lush
and fat over the noon hour.
He’ll never miss the stink
of fast food meats.

A broth base boils
ready for a thickener
such as corn starch or flour
or another mush
that cools and sets
so the soup will settle in a sick
stomach easily.