Tuesday, January 19, 2016

chicken wings

i guess they're going pretty well
thus far, these vegetarian venturings.
not missing the burgers or the nuggets or the sirloins.
not really  missing the patties or the links or the strips.
no - it's the wings.
tiny and bony with cauterized flesh soaked in beautiful pinkorange goop.

{i once attempted and failed to complete
  a wing-eating challenge on the basis of heat
  no amount of milk could alleviate the burn
  and for days after the loss it did nothing but churn
  on a walk through the streets of seattle's downtown
  i thought i'd shit myself and was forced to sit down
  mercifully a bathroom appeared from thin air
  or it would've been a messy ending to what started with a dare}

no PTSD can stave off the crave 
i feel for those wings.
but for another day i stay the new course.

1 comment:

  1. great poem, Paul!..i was once a vegetarian for a bit..so i can relate. I think it was chicken that broke my spell. keep up the good work in your "vegetarian venturings"