4100
Perchance yar juiced a young man or woman
maybe born, bread and raised
in the city that never sleeps
and as a loyal son or daughter take a tram
to enjoy a tasty repast with widowed momma,
cuz eve since da papa passed away....
a futile attempt made to fill that void
awash with more'n than
half a century of wedded bliss,
whereat purposelessness pervasive
per surviving mother,
who feigns happiness, regales others
with showers of affection,
and remains active feeding her avocation
comprising striving and succeeding
to be adept within the culinary arts
thru self taught trials and errors
of brave taste testers
(which guinea pigs ought
to get medal of honor for bravery),
though her exemplary cooking reputation
exceeds five star Michelin rating
through meticulous and ridiculous
and exacting measured ingredients,
she glides within the kitchen
howsoever occasionally,
a fork or spoon slips to the floor
which inexplicable
gravitational alchemical phenomena
fuses separate piece of cutlery
into one eating implement
whereupon a dead reckoning
takes shape, that "mum"
might be in mortal danger
per inconspicuous cooking tool
whence ya stop SnapChat tin
and shutterfly as greased BuzzFeed
twittering like a bat out of hell -
ya swoop down smash mouth facebook first
presaging a fatality viz zit ting
upon the head of mum
(her christened name Chris Anne thumb -
the last appended word
linked with her diminutive size)
who intently engrossed,
keenly self absorbed,
and rapt attentively with tasks at hand
most likely oblivious
to potential safety dukes of hazard
as a benevolent offspring temporarily
take instagram reprieve,
and utilize fancy footwork
tote hilly tubularly re: turn
to counter poise vis a vis
match less laws of physics
whereby toe tulle lee tubular
kickstarter antics applied
to kindle hurly burly gnarly flatware bach up
adjacent to state of the art beet oven
which upright pedal poised
pose like leverage incorporates
quickly donning improvisational
make shift faux cuirass
with suitable culinary accoutrements
stringing together various geometrical
metal trays and tin pot for helmet
whereby a strategic stance
thence established,
where inert stainless steel
buff foon glaring spork
would be forced to take tailspin upwards,
whence fingers grab innocuous lethal weapon,
which self entertainment learned
while stationed in a rack
run amuck mess hall rowdiness
taught said table mannered tricks
magic moment imitating hotmail -
glorified footlocker earthlinked craft,
where whatsapp tinder penned didst
inviting Barrack Obama
to zap hiz frankfurter foot,
when he made a syrup prize visit
nobly endeavoring without evincing
Auld trump petting donning shoe purr action
trained first with dominant topface toes
alternating with recessive
opposing shod totally tubular taps
until fancy footwork became ambipedal
balancing ball of left or right foot atop tine
or dish of fork or spoon respectively
as stray stainless steel ware defying gravity
gracefully leapt - somersaulting
in a pirouette pinwheel linkedin arc
tine and/or miniature shovel scooper over handle
kin ur pinion (all things considered)
an eye opening experience
and the simple pleasure one can derive
from practicing strategy
trigonometry, spatial relations.
