Scramble, ramble... breakfast
These are activities when I enjoy breakfast

Crunch, munch... lunch
These are sounds when I eat lunch

Simmer, stir... dinner
These are the things that occur when I cook dinner

But in the end
Food is food
So we are all a winner

I am obsessed with my health. Not just simply my health, but my weight, and my eating habits, and my view on life and myself. I am so obsessed that it has now gotten to the point where it is all I think about, and it has become obvious to everyone around me.

I can tell you which lunch ladies at my school won't question your lunch choices, which teachers will let you sit in their classrooms during lunch because you don't want to be around anyone or food; I have memorized restaurant menus, and I can tell you the meals with the lowest amounts of calories. My photo gallery is full of screenshots of healthy, low calorie, low fat, no-sugar recipes that I intend to make when I choose. I follow 177 eating disorders blogs on Tumblr. One of them being my girlfriend, and I get notifications when all of them post anything new. I weigh myself everyday, I know what I am eating two days from now, I overexercise, and I can tell you how many calories are in the 6 200mg ibuprofen I take everyday before facing the world.

I have lost 20 lbs. That doesn't seem like something worth keeping to myself, but it is when you are a high school girl; it is when all girls think the same, and suddenly when they hear numbers, they want to be number 1; they want to be the lowest, to be the winner, to be the most miserable person.

I can tell you exactly what it feels like to be embarrassed of being in your own skin.

I love giving other people food because I want them to remember that food is good for them. I want them to feel as though being given food is a kind gesture, not a last resort.

i made you
a sandwich; it's
in the icebox.

i was worried
you'd get hungry.

i remembered
to put your
favorite
things in it,
so please
eat it.

two men
outside a starbucks
chainsmoking through
a saturday lunch

the sun is up
melting the snow at my feet
i wait for a bus that never comes

You'll eat meat
And love a bacon sarnie
When you're ******
You'll smash a biryani
But when it comes to
Chopped pork, rinds and ham
No one wants to eat spam

In the Great War
We survived on rations
And beat zee Germans
With ******* passion
The lads didn't complain
About what they had to eat
Whether it was a le carte
Or mashed-up meat
But these days
That's not your jam
And no one wants to eat spam

It's great in a fry up
And ******* lovely in a butty
Get the kettle on
And get comfy
And enjoy
A cup of ******* tea
And eat your spam
Perfect with ketchup or HP
And don't complain
That it ain't real meat
Just get it in your gob
And enjoy this tasty treat

But most of you
Are to blame
And like the majority
Don't think it's the same
You're into avocados
Poached eggs and all that
And can't stand the thought
Of a chopped pig in a can
When you were young
You should've listened to your nan
Now it's a ******* shame
No one wants to eat spam

In the kitchen,
......fragrance is eclectic......in spices
fresh, some stewing with other ingredients...garlic
ginger, and bits of pork, and shrimp paste, blending
flavors in boiling coconut juice...sliced eggplants, cut string
beans, squared squash, and squash blossoms will be dropped
soon................in a separate pan, fish is deep fried...

joining this redolence, is
the smell of plucked sweetsop tree leaves, and dry grass,
touched by rain.....raindrops shyly tip-tap on the hot roof,
flowing down on the eaves, dripping sparingly, softly hits
the steaming creviced grounds....a hushed sound follows...
red, blue, brown, beige roofs adorn the graying horizon...
too early for thunder and lightning...gray clouds hang low
...more tears from Heaven threaten to flow

the front garden beckons...awaits to be rearranged
.....peach, purple, mauve and verdant colors surround
........there's music! the air is rich with a mix of sounds:
the neighbor's washing machine is running...cats are meowing,
purring, the rooster keeps crowing...seems, dog is vocalizing,
a pleasant crescendo...as water in the basin overflows...
...i could see invisible arrows, leading me...seeming didactic
...where to go, what to do, this morning so eclectic
...but.....
i savor what remains of a late breakfast of red sausages,
......and the smell of almost gone coffee...so pleasant, as
drying bubbles cling to the rim of the mug......electric fans
are turned towards the table.....to dispel hot, humid air,
........plates are ready......there is always cooked rice,
...........lunch is served.


Sally

Copyright August 27, 2017
rrab