what the fuck happened to the cooking?

the loser in a conflict may
not be the villain the book boards
deem and teach. Funds
might’ve been famished.
So down here is a legacy
perhaps comparable
to a Germanic neighborhood

but you know who’s perfect
and say what one will,
competition spirits don’t even
bother when coming to the door
to cuisine arts. It was one comfort
for the embittered to reach for,
but since the last layover

the victors, invaders,
whoever they shall be,
are not satisfied with texts
expected of history books,
but are erasing the recipes
and right or wrong, this does
not endear and shall not stand

Advertisements

About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s