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"queso" poems
"i don't wanna have to be the one to tell you this, but you're no foodie; you're just a ****** who's too cowardly to take an honest look at yourself. It's okay to be whatever you want, just don't lie to yourself proclaiming to be a foodie to justify late-night trips to Jack in the Box four days a week, or eating a whole jar of Tostitos 'Salsa con Queso' every two days. Are you trying to mummify yourself with all those preservatives? Y'know, just because you blow most of your paychecks on gasoline, **** food and overpriced coffee pulled to the most pretentious of standards doesn't at all begin to mean that you've got any class, taste, or style, let alone that you're a foodie. At least recycle all the paper products your pseudofood comes in. Moreover, your thighs aren't ******* gluten, they're all that other junk you eat habitually while watching your oh-so-edified selection of films before sleeping it off until 3 in the afternoon. No wonder you're so full of **** you are what you eat, I suppose. Pull your head on out your *** All that fat and cholesterol isn't for the faint of heart."
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 1:38 PM UTC
Sorry, but foodies don't eat Jack in the Box at 3 AM. Hipster-ass fool. You lyin' to yo'self!
Succulent, meaty, ribs falling off the bone and drenched in a velvety, thick, sauce. “Check please.” Tender chunks of lobster tail bathed in sweet, drawn, butter. “Thank you. That will be all. Heavy, cream-coated, strands of fettuccine accompanied by fresh peas, Speck, and shaved Parmesan. “I wish I could stay but I can’t.” Filet. Rare. A veil of Roquefort and sautéed wild mushrooms in a Sauternes reduction. “It's just not the right time.” Perfectly seasoned carne asada with a creamy roasted poblano sauce, queso fresco and the cool, half-mooned, sultry innards of a Hass avocado. “I'll call you tomorrow” A decadent Kobe burger blanketed in cheeses, caramelized onions, crisp bacon, and a cap of unctuous foie grois. “But thank you for everything.” Peanut butter and jelly on white bread. And you would have me forever.
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Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 4:42 PM UTC
The Menu
today we visit graveyards turning over the wormy soil to uncover the exquisite corpse though we were told to let the dead bury the dead on this day we unbury the dearly departed relishing transcendent embraces and cool cervezas with jolly amigos and la familia who have gone on before we wrap ourselves in graveblankets to complete warm circles of love embracing our beloved companeros; gleaning netherworld heavenly rest wisdom, sharing the laughter of trite earthly concerns we’ll roll speckled tortillas on smooth tombstone mesas to feast on Mariachi tacos brimming with spicy queso, chased with another cool sip waltzing with the holy bones to the candle lit reveries of this evenings flowing melodies Mercedes Sosa & Joan Baez Gracias a la Vida Dia De Muertos Diego Rivera Oakland 11/1/13 jbm
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Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC
Dia de Muertos
olvide pizza, olvide macarrones de queso la comida para el cual le daría todo de mis pesos es el bocadillo con queso amarillo, anaranjado, o blanca no quiero agua, o fanta incluso yo tengo mucho ser es- -ta triste. tengo ser para liquido y mujeres pero el queso llena el agujero en mi corazon y estomago tú pides "¿te gusta el queso de plancha? " no! me encanta el bocadillo y como el queso habla a me el queso dice "comerme" "comerme" antonces yo pongo el queso en mi boca ¡ay el bocadillo con queso hace mi loca!
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Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
La Oda al Queso a la Plancha
I swear I'm not a Munster. Don't leave me provolone. When you asiago away I really Swiss you. It makes me bleu to watch you leave. People keep telling me it'll get cheddar. I'm feta up with going to havarties. Queso, maybe tomorrow will be Gouda.
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 12:39 PM UTC
tragic cheeses
A ti, manzana, quiero celebrarte llenándome con tu nombre la boca, comiéndote. Siempre eres nueva como nada o nadie, siempre recién caída del Paraíso: plena y pura mejilla arrebolada de la aurora! Qué difíciles son comparados contigo los frutos de la tierra, las celulares uvas, los mangos tenebrosos, las huesudas ciruelas, los higos submarinos: tú eres pomada pura, pan fragante, queso de la vegetación. Cuando mordemos tu redonda inocencia volvemos por un instante a ser también recién creadas criaturas: aún tenemos algo de manzana. Yo quiero una abundancia total, la multiplicación de tu familia, quiero una ciudad, una república, un río Mississippi de manzanas, y en sus orillas quiero ver a toda la población del mundo unida, reunida, en el acto más simple de la tierra: mordiendo una manzana.
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1.7k
Oda a la manzana
I sit in my chair waiting for water to boil to cook a cool meal. Married for 4 weeks... it doesn't seem like that long every moment's bright. Time to boil the corn I already made the cheese smoky lime queso. He's watching the end the show he started last night the last episode. In half an hour I'll tell him dinner's ready and he'll smile so big!
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Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 4:52 PM UTC
kitchen thoughts
I'd like this all to be a dream. A bad dream. Not a nightmare, just the kind of dream that you know is half real. The kind of dream that is uncomfortable, but you know you'll be waking up soon. I'd like this all to be a dream, and find myself waking up to you at the table sipping coffee eating toasted pandesal with queso de bola, but I'm already awake. And you're still gone.
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 12:01 PM UTC
Still Gone
A dog, a cat, and tiny fluffy mouse Are learning Spanish in their English house Since they are going to the Southern Spain They need to train their little stupid brain The dog says: “My name is el perro grande I love the singer Ariana Grande But I hate cats and cats I eat them all May they be big, may they be very small” The cat says: “My name is el gato ***** I’m learning Spanish, it makes me alegro But I hate mice and mice I eat them all May they be big, may they be very small” The fluffy mouse says: “I am el ratón I love some queso and I love jamón But most of all I love them cats and dogs In Turkish kebabs and in big hotdogs”
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May 6, 2018
May 6, 2018 at 9:29 AM UTC
The Dog, The Cat, & Fluffy Mouse
Qué hicisteis vosotros, gidistas intelectualistas, rilkistas, misterizantes, falsos brujos existenciales, amapolas surrealistas encendidas en una tumba, europeizados cadáveres de la moda, pálidas lombrices del queso capitalista, qué hicisteis ante el reinado de la angustia, frente a este oscuro ser humano, a esta pateada compostura, a esta cabeza sumergida en el estiércol, a esta esencia de ásperas vidas pisoteadas? No hicisteis nada sino la fuga: vendisteis hacinado detritus, buscasteis cabellos celestes, plantas cobardes, uñas rotas, «belleza pura», «sortilegio», obras de pobres asustados para evadir los ojos, para enmarañar las delicadas pupilas, para subsistir con el plato de restos sucios que os arrojaron los señores, sin ver la piedra en agonía, sin defender, sin conquistar, más ciegos que las coronas del cementerio, cuando cae la lluvia sobre las inmóviles flores podridas de las tumbas.
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804
Los poetas celestes
The Packers hail from this land a cheesy head, spicy, not bland curdled, or sliced, or by block the store always keeps it, in stock On a pizza, always divine mac and cheese, superb, and sublime don't slight the head cheese maker he's not a Puritan, or Quaker Plying a trade cross the nation the tastiness of greater creation mooing cows providing the milk creamy and smooth as pure silk Melted on meat, on a bun eaten with fries and chives, on the run queso and chip, that's a Mexican dip cheese, it will clog, but what fun
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Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 10:48 AM UTC
Ode to Cheeeeese
Happiness is tears of laughter, video games with your redheaded son, rescuing a baby ferret to look after, or telling a ridiculously cheesy pun. Happiness is a home cooked meal, your mom randomly giving you a hug, a Harry Potter sticker on your driving wheel, or seeing summer's first June bug. Happiness is your dad being proud of you, Momma's homemade queso in a crock *** an ocean wave so stunningly blue, or learning how to dance in an empty parking lot, Happiness is running two miles, sitting in a pew singing "It is well", watching the Netflix Ted Bundy trials, or a collection of Galveston seashells. Happiness is driving through Spring, a spontaneous trip to the Houston Zoo, or twenty percent off a James Avery ring. But mostly... happiness is me when I'm with you.
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Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 12:16 PM UTC
My Happiness
I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where you need to jog up three black carpet handicap-ramps just to reach your table. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where it takes 14 minutes for the waitress to arrive, and 72 minutes for the food to come out. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where they change their mac n’ cheese recipe every week just to **** you off. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where all 300 TV screens are airing adds simultaneously. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where you ask for queso without salsa, but they can’t hear you; over the Flex Seal commercial blasting at full volume. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where every wing sauce besides honey-barbecue tastes like Jalapeño Takis drenched in McDonald’s buffalo sauce. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where it’s Kids Wednesday, everyday. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the bathrooms have approximately 4 urinals, 2 baby changing stations, and 17 ******* TVs. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where desserts always on the menu, but never in your mouth. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the party games consist of a single, rigged, claw machine, full of nothing but green and pink rubber ***** I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the bar smells like congealed grease, olive oil, and a rusted frying pan. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the only customers are bald-white-guys and fat-black-women. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the one birthday clown is a 54-year-old Indian *** offender. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where dreams die and rape-babies are born. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where their iceberg lettuce is grown under black-light. I want to go to Buffalo Wi- Wait, are you not in the mood for chicken?
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Apr 8, 2020
Apr 8, 2020 at 8:48 PM UTC
Buffalo Wild Wings
I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where you need to jog up three black carpet handicap-ramps just to reach your table. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where it takes 14 minutes for the waitress to arrive, and 72 minutes for the food to come out. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where they change their mac n’ cheese recipe every week just to **** you off. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where all 300 TV screens are airing adds simultaneously. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where you ask for queso without salsa, but they can’t hear you; over the Flex Seal commercial blasting at full volume. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where every wing sauce besides honey-barbecue tastes like Jalapeño Takis drenched in McDonald’s buffalo sauce. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where it’s Kids Wednesday, everyday. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the bathrooms have approximately 4 urinals, 2 baby changing stations, and 17 ******* TVs. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where desserts always on the menu, but never in your mouth. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the party games consist of a single, rigged, claw machine, full of nothing but green and pink rubber ***** I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the bar smells like congealed grease, olive oil, and a rusted frying pan. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the only customers are bald-white-guys and fat-black-women. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where the one birthday clown is a 54-year-old Indian *** offender. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where dreams die and rape-babies are born. I want to go to Buffalo Wild Wings, where their iceberg lettuce is grown under black-light. I want to go to Buffalo Wi- Wait, are you not in the mood for chicken?
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17
Queso con lechuga pan, biftec, mostaza son delicioso
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
Delicioso
Darme algo que no me ahoga sera interesante no de novelas o talvez me pueden decirme algo lo que entra a una no siempre salga Dejame entender si no me equivoque lo que empieza con un no le siempre late o es a decir no querer a quedar de malas no siempre resuelve las indifferencias Pensando de frente, a lado o no por atras talvez hay solucion que no me adelanten por al momento si encuentro lo de mas por lo menos lo pido que no me destruyen Darme el momento y los entiendo que no todo esta hecho de queso y entra el dia que pretende a ser un momento que no se volver Pretendo a volver a vivir
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Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 2:52 AM UTC
Give me something
Era escasa la pitanza En el Asilo de locos. Don José Solís, Virrey Entre Virreyes rumboso, Que cuanto daba a los pobres Lo juzgaba siempre poco, De esa escasez supo un día Contrariado y con asombro, Porque al Asilo enviaba Siempre ayuda generoso, Y al instante a su presencia Llamando a su mayordomo, Y entregándole una bolsa Le dijo: «Con este oro Quiero que se dé un almuerzo Mañana mismo a los locos, Pero un almuerzo abundante, Un almuerzo apetitoso, Como esos, según decires, Que acostumbran los canónigos, Y que por eso, rollizos Se les ve subir al coro, Aunque afirman que es la vida Sin pecados, lo que sólo Hace que Dios los conserve Con buena salud y gordos. Siempre de pecados me hablan, Las manos en el redondo Vientre cruzadas, sabiendo Que al cielo ofendemos todos, Unos pecando a escondidas Y no ocultándonos otros». De verse eran las espuertas: Pavos asados al horno, Papas con queso, esponjadas, Y carnes con blancos trozos De cebolla, y con lechugas, Postres variados, bizcochos Hechos por monjas, y dulces... Todo allí servido a rodo. El Virrey pensó: «La dicha Se puede alcanzar con poco». Temprano, al día siguiente, Fue al Asilo. Vienen todos Carilargos... Y él creía Encontrarlos muy dichosos. -«¿Cómo almorzasteis?», pregunta. Y uno, inclinando los ojos Le responde bostezando: -«¿Cómo almorzamos? Nosotros, Señor Virrey, como frailes, Y los frailes como locos».
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401
El virrey solís y los locos
Mexican restaurant Salsa, queso, chips 35 years later Her kiss upon my lips Awake again at night Darkness in my room The Once and Future King A kind of English Doom Professor X. Womb to Tomb.
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Jan 16, 2021
Jan 16, 2021 at 11:41 PM UTC
mutating
get away with it **** the allseeing all omni in this or that sense me and you have to go and get any game go and bet run with the cash and lay low gripping on to every peso all time low times on the way though spring up and capture queso hoarded like I might need that don't touch that stay off that i'm a pack rat and toss me a kit kat break it up get away with it
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 10:49 PM UTC
get away with it