What I need today is to cook something weird--
Something nice but eclectic to eat.
True, peculiar food might not taste like James Beard,
But creation is lovely and 1337.
I've not yet tried using the oven or grill
To make versatility [that] I savor,
But the trick's in the mix, and my magic chef's skills
Mix my favorite things for awesome flavor.
We can all agree, now, that no matter the food--
Yes, no matter the perfect invention--
No matter if it's downright purple-hued,
We should try it without apprehension.
For it's dashing clear lines, I can only conclude,
That makes smiles a foregone conclusion.
So I'll root for discov'ring new mashups of food...
I want you to try cooking some fusion!
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Oh, a metaphor is a device
That is used to divert and entice
So it won't come to light
That this poem that you write
Has to do with, well, nothing but rice.
It's the fib that you tell for your guests' sake
So they never experience the heartbreak
Of discovering hors d'oeuvre
They've declared "so superb"
To be nothing but leftover rice cakes.