The Foodies Have A Spat Poem by Oliver Ovid
The Foodies Have A Spat
He gulped.
She stood there with a knife,
and the blade was poised
above the steaming bread.
She guffawed.
'You're going to slice it like
Texas Toast, aren't you? '
he smirked.
'You always have to slice it thick, '
he complained.
The knife began its journey.
'It's too hot as well. You're
going to ruin the loaf, '
he scolded.
She laughed heartily as the knife
gashed the tender bread.
Crumbs were floating in the air
as if tied to fishing line.
He smelled
yeast as it poured out
of the pumpernickel.
Sobbing, he thought of when they
used to sop up their peppered
gravy with biscuits. 'Wait,
I haven't even cut the cheese yet! '
He blurted.
They stopped, giggled, and looked at each other.
She put the knife in the sink carefully,
and he hugged her from behind.
i cut the cheese the other day and my mate had to open all the windows to air out the house! this now goes into my/our monthly 'showcase for and by PH poets', July 2017's edition. i'll actually just include your name and the link to this poem page. thanks. bri :)
Best to bake alone - then more hot bread more butter more cheese and the innocence of virginity.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. This is real life without the pink paint many poets cover it up with. My daughter said to tell you No, he is NOT an extremely bad poet and I have to agree with her!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:20:28 PM # 1.0.0.1119
such a nice piece of work, Frank N.Footer. You may like to read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.