He came to me in a dream.
"You look a little like someone I've seen before, but your beard is longer." I said.
"This is what's called a 'pip-beard,'" he exclaimed gleefully. "It's short on the left and then 'pips' to the right!"
"You look a little like someone I've seen before, but your beard is longer." I said.
"This is what's called a 'pip-beard,'" he exclaimed gleefully. "It's short on the left and then 'pips' to the right!"
And here's the poem: "Une Pomme de la Route"
I ate an apple yesterday,
It tasted slightly rotten.
And though I chewed it heartily,
Its texture I've forgotten.
I've been a long time without fruit --
So long I can't remember
The reasons people eat the things
That drop in mid-September.
I'd rather suck down mounds of meat,
Or maybe pies and candy.
I am a cook trés exemplaire!
With fat I am quite handy.
Do give me lots of naughty food.
Soft cakes and basted turkey
O! Give me custard laden tarts,
And mesquite-flavored jerky.
You can keep your organique,
Your light, un-filling menus,
And I'll keep mine, my tasty treats
And greasy smelling venues.
3 comments:
oh no! I hope Katie gets better.
Aw, hope she is feeling better <3
wow. that poem is something, and I mean this in the best possible way. I can completely relate to the feeling of just craving "naughty food." I too would "rather suck down mounds of meat, / Or maybe pies and candy."
Post a Comment