Member Poem

An appetizer, essentially an
out of this world guacamole
quasi Neptune salad,
regarding self taught cook
earning prized counterpart
five Michelin stars,
when the missus artfully, carefully,
cannily, decorously, deftly,
and happily prepared
earlier today June 21st, 2024
for her favorite buzzfeeding nincompoop

otherwise known as yours truly
barley distilled friggin
human impractical joker,
(who just learned
how to walk erect this morning)
gifted with absolute zero
sense and sensibility,
nevertheless whose modest
absinthe pride and prejudice
subsequently qualified him as Übermensch,

and admirable taste tester de jure
concerning culinary pop slop queen
cuisine of Schwenksville
of aforementioned dish
prepared courtesy unsung chef
at 2 Highland Manor Drive:
she made with the following ingredients:
vidalia onions, progresso tomato bisque,
pickles, gluten free pasta
cooked leftover coffee and filtered water
and crushed nature's promise tomatoes.

After above culinary creation completed,
she slaved away mostly all of yesterday
concocting pièce de résistance meatloaf entrée
fit for her kingly gourmand,
which complements included
butterball ground Turkey
peppered with green beans and corn
essentially the remaining bulk
made from everything
including the kitchen sink
plumbing the depths of innovation
remembering aromatic, emblematic, and idiomatic
savory eats of home and hearth
of Old Rotten Gotham
sliding into the behavioral sink.

When frequently motivated
me once upon a time little butterball
oven admirable spouse dons toque
(chef's hat that dates back to the 16th century.

Different heights may indicate rank
within a kitchen and the number of folds
can also signify a chef's expertise,
with each pleat representing
a technique that has been mastered.

As testimony to a successful endeavor
an array of cooking accouterments
(including scads of disparate utensils
plus various and sundry leftovers)
truthfully and essentially
Unrecognized Food Objects in refrigerator
constituted stock in trade scullery.

After successfully cooking,
expending and buzzfeeding me
a veritable Smörgåsbord
the industrial wife
(with just enough energy to spare)
readied herself to potschke
with assortment of ingredients,
she (the pleasingly plump wizard -
me honky tonk woman),
whipped wonderfully wrought

provisions for the palate
one of a kind ruthless babe
(wrapped herself in homemade
swiftly tailored pigs in blanket)
aforesaid entrée fit for gourmet
capped first course
with snicky snack sammich hors d'œuvre
a combination of almond butter
(whole nuts crushed in blender),
unsweetened almond milk
topped with Welch's grape jelly.