Reluctant Poet, Part II: also about food

I feel like Ka. When it hits me, it hits me and I have to write it down. If I don't write it down the moment the Muse whispers in my ear, it moves on, leaving me alone and lonely.

So, here it is. My second attempt at poetry.  This one is also based on a prompt from the Southwest Book Fiesta. It also revolves around food. The only restriction was to start with (though you didn't have to use) this opening line: "As I recall the meal I ate..."

"Last Meal"

As I recall,
the meal I ate was nothing worth recalling.
Baked potatoes and cube steak. Many years later,
I found that most eat their baked potatoes after baking them again.
From there they are drowned with soured creams and
bacon pieces. I only know how potatoes taste. They
probably have no idea.
The grit and stale flesh make my teeth hurt. Its escaping
steam the only moisture available.
Then there's the steak. Who
knew cube steak was something to be thrown
to dogs or added to sauces as flavoring. Not a main dish.
I thought I ate like a king in those days.
But I also thought everyone hated eating.

The Reluctant Poet

It's true. I've turned to the dark side of writing. The epitome of writing that will never get read, never get recognition, and never make me money. It all started during my stint at the Southwest Book Fiesta here in Albuquerque. I went to a bunch of writing workshops. Many of which had us doing creativity exercises.

One particular one, the one I will share this evening, was based on a writing prompt of: write either a grocery list or a recipe; try to tell a story while writing it. There are no other rules...you have 5 minutes.

So, without further hesitation, here is my first poem ever, entitled "Grocery List"

GROCERY LIST

--toothpaste
--paper plates
--soda
--quart of milk: 2%
--semi-sweet chocolate chips: can't get this one wrong
--cupcake papers: but not the paper ones
--light brown sugar: better get the name brand this time
--butter: get margarine again and there'll be trouble
--frosting: your choice--it's your birthday

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