Gustatory Dissonance

She's an engineer, the missus is.
She hasn't the slightest concern
With quality. Quantity matters,
And, so, does cost. She doesn't
Mind factory food or beer,
And rot-gut gin and diet tonic
Meet her needs, though I'm
Appalled. I'd rather consume
Things which haven't been
Strained or synthesized, sent
Along rubber conveyors,
And packaged and frozen,
And marked up as being
Worthwhile to eat when they
Are not. I will take Paris.
She'd like Peoria. I want
Some wine and a baguette
And slices of actual cheese,
And handmade sausage. She'll
Savor nuggets of chopped-up
Chicken and French-fried potatoes
Which come in a bag, so we, who
Are, this way, almost incompatible,
Meet at one table, but eat separate
Ways. She's an engineer.
She has no taste.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 70 times
Written on 2020-08-14 at 15:15

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text