I found my gene in last century's famine,
I might cook tonight and try to be feminine.
Taking care of the plants plucked from sunlight.
Neglecting the machines and out with my hands.
Lettuce, carrots, celery, and the orphaned rice;
Milk, honey, coffee, and sizzling cheese;
Steak, pork, chicken, and the blushing shrimp.
Flakes of salt buried with vinegar,
reincarnated as purified sugar.
With pieces of rainbow clutched between my teeth,
Bon appetit.