poem, poetry, fest, food, excess

IN THE FLESH

here’s a feast
for the ages, for your fingers,
for your life, for
all times
for
your heart and soul

in the flesh
carved from
the bone my dear
carnivours
where all is sweetest

some thing left
for you to pick at
that is quite outrageous

panopolies of cauldrons
spawning
much smoke
and music

Hell crazy indeed
these mountain landscapes of food

full sausage processes
meet off-cuts of Heaven
meaning
all you can eat

but where
would carnival be
without its underworld

the darker whose secrets
liberation
the sweeter
the taste
(and as much vice versa
as you are
willing
to hear as much
outright contradiction
as you came for today)
.
harvest, autumn
seeds and leaves
all is in cycle
all
rise
must fall

precarious all this plunder that
speaks words
of wonder

whips up
pudding praise, storm
salad of words

buffet
smorgasbord
release
your inner Viking
dormant marauder

still spinning
what gives, is this
not
eternal engine simply
infinite machine?

those modernists of yore
clattering away, force-
feeding
their typewriters

fry
what is
deep frozen (deep
fry, twice
the ice fry in batter)

prove
food for thought as to
how revolutionary
one can be

meat of an idea full
of succulent goodness something
paid the price for

off cuts and fillet
what nestles close to
the heart
attached to
the bone

a sea of food rendered
an ocean of flavour

all that is sweet bitter sour
full savoury indeed

all in the garnish, style
of the spices

the street in your food
pushed to its class
limit
stretched to
haute cuisine

feel it
in your marrow as you
ride the wild rides
eat
the squid
counter the octopus

take
a last bite

drink your last sip

time left to cure and

let
the stew brew

the rich liqueurs percolate

here’s a feast
tosink your teeth into