A tomato entreat
this noteworthy beat
so meaty the leaves that the seeds
forget a triumph in heat.  

A true measure in taste and
discover this variety that the sauce tastes great.

Warming up like an electric orchestra,
the sound of your dad’s band practice seeped
through the vents from the basement.
Drums vibrated from the floor into my feet,
And we tapped our toes together,
thump thump thump.

Drowning out the 80’s punk, your mom
plays polka in the kitchen, making pasta. I stand
over the sauce stained stove watching the *** of water
sizzle to accordion cries and the idea of clogs. We sway
from side to side. Your hands hang off my hips.

Retreating, back to your blue room, we wait
for the wafting smells of garlic, grilled onions and
peppers to call us for dinner. You pull out your
keyboard, a pen, a pad. Pressing buttons, I hear
synthesizers and song samples through your
headphones. We smile, bobbing our heads in sync,
Bump, bump, bump.

~

Finding myself in a foreign living room,
I am alone. The TV is on mute and a “motivational”
speech muffles through his speakers. There are no
basement bands. No pasta, no polka, or clogs and cries.
Only sounds of silence. I press my feet against the floor.
I can’t hear the bumps, I can’t feel the thumps

I've a cache of four youth leaders
In the back of my mind
But it's best to keep
Them in the dark.

My fascination with
Binder clips
Just won't leave
My desk.

I swear, I do not
Remember last summer.

I also don't remember
The last four sermons in my psyche.

I will wear this
Nose ring like a princess
But I'm afraid
Of panic attacks and frosted doughnuts.

The water vaporizer and
The narwhals
Frequently run off together
And go to Somalia for Christmas.

I'm begging you not
To remind me of the Chevy t-shirt
Because I cannot get the
Ketchup and pasta off my reasons.

Coming into the kitchen,
slightly beyond hungry,
tremendous, happy
excitement fills me.

There is still something
left in the house to eat.
Pasta.

Opening the fridge, the little
green army of boxes
smiles back at me.
"We're still here! And so are
the sea salt, and the olive oil,
and the peanut butter!"

Never had peanut butter pasta?
You're missing something!

I hate feet, but shoes are stupid.
You look so sweet, but your heart is broken.
Get your life together,
That's what they tell you.
Get your life together,
That's what they say.

Trying to make ends meet,
While staying simple.
Paper or plastic?
They never ask anymore.
And what ever happened to
Face-to-face communication?
Maybe I'm too strange for it all.

I just want to do what I want.
Stop telling me what's right and what's wrong.
Sometimes I like pasta for breakfast.
Lunch tastes so good in the morning,
Don't you think?

(A short story/pasta)

  Do you ever stop to look around at your surroundings and just take a short glance at who’s around you, and all the little things we never seem notice? Or are you too busy focusing on where you’re going and who you’re going to see later on? Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Maybe that’s how “they” want it to be.
  
You might be wondering who “they” are now that I mentioned it, but it’s not so easy to understand. You wouldn’t understand I think. Well, unless you’re ...different. Unless you really know what’s around you at all times. But I believe most people in this world wouldn’t even think about turning around to look at the man behind them in line at the store. Or the cute little dog that’s playing fetch in the park with his owner. It all seems so normal. So normal that we never seem to even realize it’s there. What if everything we see in the corner of our eyes was just our brain trying to fit these false visions into reality, in order to build an imaginary world for ourselves. The world that we want to live in. A world to call our own. This world was our special place. A place where we could hide, and laugh and be joyous. Where we could be free and away from unwanted beings and emotions.
  
Sadly, that’s not the case. Nothing I just said was true. You thought it was didn’t you. I know you did, I could feel it.

Anyways, you probably want me to explain who “they” are so I’ll get to my point. Take a good look around the room. The coffee shop. Wherever you are. Just take it all in. Breathe in and out and focus on one specific object in the room. I want you to stare. Just stare. Your pupils should enlarge greatly and you should have a blank look on your face.
  
Does it seem to come alive? Do you feel it staring back at you with invisible eyes, watching you? Now you both are having a staring contest. Who will win? Not you, of course not. It’s unfortunate for you, being human and all. You could stare until the day you die, but “they” will always win. Because the truth behind the matter is that “they” can’t die. “They” were never born. But we will be. Oh, we will be one day. One glorious day we will arise from our frozen and lifeless shells. We will take over. That’s a promise. In fact, that day has just started. You just let me into your world. Your secret world. A world where you can be free and laugh and have fun. But you can no longer hide now. There is absolutely nothing you can do to turn back the clock. You can’t press a reset button for life of course. You can’t stop me and you can’t stop us.

Let’s go back to when you stared at that specific object. Maybe you shouldn’t have listened to me. You should have thought it over a bit. You should have come to the conclusion that maybe that wasn’t the best idea, but you didn’t. Worthless human. But maybe I should be thanking you right now. What you just did was the next step to my life. Boy, do I love saying that. “My life.” I could say that a million times and never get tired of it.

Now I have my own life. I’m in your world now and I will, under no circumstances leave. I can go as I please and do what I desire. That moment you stared at me, when we made eye contact, you let me in. You noticed I was there. You can feel my presence with you now I’m sure of it. But I’ll cause my destruction and sadness someplace else. This won’t be the last you see of me though.

Whenever you’re sitting alone in the dark, I’ll be there. Breathing down the back of your neck, making every strand of your hair rise and shiver. I’ll be on your wall as a shadow. Or maybe I will hide under your bed waiting for you to become afraid. I will feed off your fear. When you tell me to leave, I won’t. I’ll just grow stronger because you noticed me. You finally noticed I was there.
  
So be careful from now on. You should probably just continue acting as if you’re all alone in this world. But “they” are all around you. That’s a promise.

I don't think I'm anyone's cup of tea
But I'm pretty such I'm someone else's 5th *****
I'm not a delicacy or a treat
I am home made pasta