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Robin Carretti Aug 2018
Where do we meet
    Oh! No He_*
Getting onto
the next courses
Oh La- La "Cheri"
K>ANSAS>>City

_ Prime spot pretty

 let's >- jump ))) To Love
Please raise the horses

What a skirt steak in her
Petticoat Junction
Going to Kansas City affection
Different tribe or breed
What needs to love me
tender Elvis meet Beavis Buthead
    More  T.L.C  
computer DOC Tick Tock
IRS taking a meat beef
chunk is everybody drunk
IOS what is really the meat
Business Politician Trump

Subscribe well done
Cooked or rare spooked
Taking a Spin City kick
She got canned and licked
The prime meat hot seat

The ******* who arrives
first class steak knifes
Ms. Pork hard chew 
Mr. Beans second rate
Dark pumpernickel
Saloon *******, he
is eating
The young tender
chicken leg

High five thigh? Hands
up Robin Fly
Save the meat "let it be"
  "Let it Be" Beatles
The beat Colonel deep fried
Grade A rare meat slicing

Eating in a board meeting
The pig meat market
of pricing

Doe a deer
he loves
International beer
A very sensitive time
Slaughterhouse no way out
His poker face meets
potato heads beef jerky
Surrender Weds
maple smiles picky
The rich Syrup
Disney Mickey Mouse
Kansas City Wonder
meat house

The beauty of animals
"Moms kettle she is talking
to Parrots" meat
the market for rings riot
Six enemies making
6 rounds
Six servants 666 carats
Robin smiles heartily
"Campbells Chicken" little


He's the Beef Man stew
If you only knew

He's spitting tobacco chew
She peels the potato for the
meathead bad to the
T-bone Dachshund I Bone

Garlic knots heart of the
Sausage wearing the
meat corsage Superbowl
My sweet basil good soul
Grilling your bullhead
Pirate Ribeye steak pupils
Mr. "Billygoat" Bachelorette
Hair flat crepe Suzette

Moms Korean style fuss
coleslaw
what a seesaw
Playing Porgy and Bess
 Scarlet the red rare meat
Rolling stone baking pin
Mississippi one or two
Under my meaty thumb

Comes in three-4-5-6- Lucky 7
-Crazy 8 furries
Nine meat ribs-10 babies
with bibs
Hungry Man meat when!!
Country plaid tablecloth
"Kansas Men" of the cloth
The Pig approval
Kansas City Mayor
new arrival

Family together eating
Don't eat our animals
Why is life so unfair
Feeding the poor
with cans
The bad cut of meat devil
this is not the "Grade A"
This is not a ring
circus trainer Bullseye

Robin coffee animal-friendly
Two peas in a pod I pods
  I tune like Gods
Were the luckiest people to have
animals  

The Floridian with dog murals
Palm trees green thumb
plants sunshine events
The symphony dog tails
of hunts
Whats to compare her twilight
eyes hold the moment stare
Talk to the animal's hearts care
The barbecue all the meat men and the women who love their fruit listen to the Owl lady how she hoots those Kansas city slicker boots and the Hehaw have a good time with family and friends treat the animals with tender loving care
Anais Vionet Oct 2023
It’s Sunday afternoon and several of us, Leong, Sunny, Anna, Lisa and her new BF Dave (well, he isn’t ‘new,’ he’s 26) and I are watching an NFL football game. The Eagles vs the Jets.

There’s a platter of wings, fries, celery and dips on the low-white table for grazing and everyone’s multitasking while watching the game. Leong, Lisa and I on iPads, Anna, and Dave are on laptops and Sunny has a book.

I’m rooting for the Jets, although they’re the underdogs and given little chance. Dave’s for the Eagles, he believes they’re SuperBowl bound and he may be right.

After every good Jets play, like a first down, or defensive tackle or a score, I start snapping my finger - like the dancing Jet hoodlums in ‘West Side Story’ and sing:

“When you're a Jet,
you’re a Jet all your life
all your kids will be Jets
and even your wife.”

When I did it the first time, Dave chuckled. Lisa patted his arm, saying, “You’ll get used to it.” I’ve only done it twenty or thirty times since then and everyone’s ignoring me.

“I could be a songwriter, you know,” I said, “just give up this life of college drudgery and hang with T-Swift”. No one denied my obvious talent.

A huge Eagles lineman bust through the Jets o-line, throwing QB Zach Wilson to the turf, “Jeez,” Anna said.
“That guy’s not an Eagle,” I protested indignantly, “he’s a condor.” I was hoping for a flag but none were thrown.

“I want some steak”, I announced suddenly, to no one and everybody, switching subjects as quickly as a brain synapse fires.
“Do you know,” I reasoned extemporaneously, “that a diet of nothing but healthy prime-rib or ribeye steak can practically eliminate the chance of coming down with mad-lettuce-disease?”

“Mad-lettuce-disease?” Sunny asked, looking up from her book with a smirk.
“Middle America,” I began, Leong groaned and Lisa rolled her eyes at Dave, who smiled.
“That’s where all our vegetables come from,” I said, “the red states on the electoral maps,” I clarified even further.

“Well, how can we explain simple, decent, hard-working people falling in love with a lying, craven, reality-TV huckster like Trump?” I asked rhetorically,  looking around for an answer. When no answer was forthcoming, I supplied it:
“Mad-lettuce-disease!” I proclaimed, “Those people are eating the ‘vegetables’ they grow!” Giving the word ‘vegetables’ the same scorn I might lavish on ‘cigarettes’.

“If we all just stuck to a healthy, all-steak diet, ‘Mad-lettuce-disease’ would fade away and America would be saved.” I concluded, like a lawyer finishing a summation to a jury.
I expected applause, or at least a few “Amens” but there were only a few grunts and maybe a chuckle.

On the screen, the Jets defense broke through the Eagles o-line and quarterback Jalen Hurts, under pressure, threw an interception. I jumped to my feet yelling,“YES!” and begin snapping again:

“When you're a Jet
you’re a Jet all the way
from your first sorry breath
to your last dying day”

I love football, and the Jets won!
Joe Cole Sep 2014
Crane flies in my whiskey
In my good old mountain dew
Every time I take a sip
I swallow quite a few

Now I'm not complainin
About the ones that take a dip
Cos it means that I don't have to cook
Cos with every sip I take I eat a little bit

Problem is those skinny legs
A sticking in my throat
I really should stop camping
And seek a new life on my boat

Now look, I'm I'm not complainin
Cos they taste really great
But if I really had a choice
I'd choose a ribeye steak
The joys of camping
Lyzi Diamond Apr 2014
Six pregnant cigarettes later
a mint julep poured and tasted
fingers licked while lips drunk sting
and sweat beads and rolls on upper lip.

A lean on outdoor table with
feet raised on outdoor chair and
grass greener than the impressionists
while the sevens and eights dance
with awkward hair and chocolate stains
a look from picture window
and ribeye steak and butter in the pan.

Fish and gills in the air and salt
drops on tiny blue eyeballs
so squints make their way gracefully
into every last family portrait.
vinny Apr 2016
when did you get so picky?
I grilled you a ribeye rare
olive oil baked brussel sprouts
but you chewed them up
and spit them out
you need your greens
Greek salad with olives
and feta cheese
stop tripping Nicky
your jeans are too tight
but they come off easy
your requests are so confusing
buy me a ring
but it won't mean a thing
I can't get into specifics
but i'm questioning
what i've become
and you are a major part
of the problem
what are we going to do with you Nicole?
J R Cramer Dec 2018
Had I known I’d make it this far,

Would I have taken better care?

Would I have walked by one bar?

Passed on one affair?

Declined a chemical adjustment?

Favored good sense over whim?

Deferred to my better judgement?

Forgone ribeye for kale so grim?

Of course not.

Assuming only survival had confirmation

And the aftermath of each decision

Were still open to speculation,

There would be no need for revision.
Suspending loss or gain,

And ignoring others’ wrath,

The fact that I remain

Confirms the virtue of my path.

Well, that may be going too far,

But, unrepentant, I’m already there.

Strange faith in fate served me well, so far

And pulled me through without a care.

Yet my waywardness in both fact and fame

Was no less reckless, no less wild

Than of friends fallen in this game

Some so young - less man, more child.



I’ve indeed fared better

Than friends of long ago

Who broke through every fetter

Unwilling the prized cheese to forego

And in a headlong rush

Lunged,  heedless of the twang and snap

And fell to the deadly crush

0f fate’s cold steel trap.

Spring-loaded, compelling,

The trap holds undeniable sway,

But upon that I won’t be dwelling

While I have cheese enough for today.


Was I lucky?  Doubtless so.

Was I canny in avoiding fate?

I guess, but how much, who could know?

So there are no values to equate,

And no formula for a survivor’s guide

To having one’s cake and eating it, too.

Such book would be hailed far and wide

A bestseller!  But patently untrue.

The truth is that I have no idea

Why I’m now facing longevity,

Why, against all odds, I’m still here

In defiance of expected brevity.

So maybe I’m just the Second Mouse,

Distracted, wandering o’er the map,

Drifting from room to room, house to house

Appearing just after some unlucky sprung the trap.

At that point, what for me remains

But to show respect, doff my hat

And set to the work that pertains

To cheese management and growing fat.

My fate will arrive, neither too soon nor too late

An unknowable appointment’s been set,

‘Til then the whys and hows prove pointless debate

While I have good company and cheese enough yet.
K Jul 2017
i am
the blunt edges of a dollar-butterknife
that fails to cut through my ribeye;
the sharp ends of a jigsaw puzzle
that can't fit any more pieces;
the worn-down bedsheets
that has holes and ink stains all over; and
the dollar coin
that dropped on the floor.

but i have realised that i am also
a blunt edge used to spread butter on bread,
the sharp ends to complete the puzzle,
the worn sheets that are your favourite memory, and
the dollar that brightened up someone’s lousy day.  

always remember
(refer to title).
slowly learning to see the light at the end of the tunnel, one step at a time.

— The End —