Recipes, By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and @Brianrrs37 on Twitter/X)

Chalky, crumbly, stale powdered cookies
The pie sits in the window, wafting apples try
To fly, gone is the butterfly, I hear my interest’s sigh

The lime rims the glass, salt sprinkled for alas
Margaritas at midday, burned is the New York strip
I toast an empty glass, I have no clever quips

Some tart strawberries, whip cream to be atop
Petals line the floor, to the bedroom door
Even though so sure, my overtures were no cure

I shot for wasabi, she wanted maraschino cherry
I shot for pepperoncini, she wanted shrimp linguini
I shot for peperoni, she ordered me anchovies

I am the limburger, with black and white stripes
I should have made her blueberry crepes

They say there is a sunny side
The yokes I always break

Thumbs all five, all 10 I should say
I am as smooth as a porcupine
In every clumsy way

Anthony Bourdain
I will never be
Don’t follow my advice

Or my recipe.
(end)