Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Foetry (food poetry?)

i am a featured reader tomorrow at a poetry reading. i decided to write a little about food. i came up with a few pieces i like, but by far this one captures a kind of tangible anger i have…




i
fucking hate
you
rachael ray.
i hate that i had to look your name up
just to see if i spelled it right.
i hate your
accessibility.
i hate that
so many
trust you
and rave
and that you’re some maven,
some icon,
some goddess,
because you can open a can of peas.
i hate
that you’ve slutted yourself out everywhere,
no mystery,
nothing intriguing.
your face,
your hoarse voice
stupidly hollering.
i hate that you’re
America.
i hate your disrespect
for pure creation.
pre…made,
pre…boiled,
pre…prepared,
pre…vent me,
someone,
from assassination.
fuck you
and your
Yummo!
and your
E.V.O.O.
and your tricks
and your tips
and your shortcuts.
come here.
i’ll tell you to your face.
i’ll fuck you up,
with a spatula.
with a reduction.
with a roux.
i’ll roast you
under the table.
i’ll leave you
crying
onion tears
with wilted thyme
and unusable,
droopy celery.
i call you out,
rachael.
today.
bike racks.
three o’clock.
bring your
fucking
wisk.


NK '09

video of a live reading of this poem here: 
http://www.flickr.com/photos/milkwithice/3199989729/in/set-72157612575459841/

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