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Karl Johnson Jan 2018
A Freshened Palate, Perspective, and Purpose

Ingredients:

1 potato, 1 egg, half an onion, 1 clove of garlic
salt and pepper to taste
Light frying oil, 2 slices of bacon,
A fistful of poor self image
I mean, spinach
Balsamic vinegar, applesauce,
A dash of self-hate, and left over unwanted thoughts
Note: for a healthier alternative, forget the self-hate
Also note: Can’t remove unwanted thoughts


Step-by-step instructions:
1. Trim potato of any bad areas
    No matter how badly you’d want to trim
    Yourself

    Wash and scrub away any dirt or sand
2. Grate potato,
    Not knuckles
    Squeeze gratings with an old
    T-shirt or throwaway towel
    You could use the shirt you’re wearing
    But you’d end up wearing your stains
    Which, honestly,
    You do anyway

3. Grate onion, cry
4. Finely chop garlic
    Don’t think about the bad breath
5. Put potato, onion, garlic, and 1 egg (without shell)
    Into the bowl and
    Mix
    But not like mixing drinks with anxiety med
    And bad coping mechanisms.

6. Heat oil until shimmery
    Fry potato mixture to make 2 or 3
    Golden brown, delicious latkes
7. Fry bacon while latkes are in pan
    Fry two slices so the bacon doesn’t
    Have to be
    Alone or
    Isolated

    Set aside on paper towel to soak up the grease
8. Boil water to poach eggs.
    Once boiling,
    Swirl water into a whirlpool
    Exactly like the thoughts scalding
    The insides of my skull
    For example:
    Do you know what it’s like to
    Hate yourself? To not stop the
    Unbelief that you are any
    Good at all?
    Understanding that you’re
    Unemployed
    Unskilled
    Unwanted

Gently crack two eggs into whirlpool
    Understanding that you can’t simply
    “Get over this”
    Like standing under burdens
    And whiskey bourbon hits
    Expectations - faraway dreams
    Only furthering it
    Like you’ll never be able to accomplish them
    You’ll surmount them but run
    Out of oxygen because
    You’re not
    Supposed to be there
    In the first place

(don’t worry, the whirlpool will prevent eggs from
breaking)
    (Don’t you see what
    Everybody else is doing
    And you act like you
    Know what you yourself
    Is doing
    Don’t you see all your
    Truly selfish doings
    Who do you think you are?
    -laughing- you’re bad
    Where do you think
TURN OFF THE HEAT AND COVER
    Set timer for exactly 5 minutes.
    Do not
    Lift the cover until time is
    Up.
    After 5 minutes, scoop eggs out with slotted spoon and set on paper towel to dry.
    Let eggs
    *Rest.

    Be careful,
    The yolks
    Are very fragile at this point.

Assemble the dish
Spread applesauce on potato latkes. Be careful
Not to spread so thin.
Don’t be stingy,
take what You need.
Put bacon on top, stack poached eggs on top of the bacon.
Garnish plate with spinach, sprinkle with balsamic vinegar.
Each thing has its place, even if it seems too complex or complicated.

Flavor Profile;
Latkes are light and
Fluffy and crispy.
Onions, garlic give a basic, yet
Flavorful foundation.
The egg yolks spill a very rich, deep syrupiness that is brought out by the salty, fatty bacon.
The applesauce is special because the sweetness and **** contrasts with the smooth richness of egg, potato and bacon.

And just like life, balances the heavy with the light
          Work with play
       Teaching with learning
                               Spending money with saving money
       Learning things and saying things
       Being there with being here


And sometimes, amidst all of that
You need something to add
a little fresh,

A little color
A little bit of
Different.
That’s where the Spinach comes in
Some
Justified bitterness to
Freshen your
Palate, perspective, and purpose.


With each bite and each taste
You’re reminded that each blend of flavors
Each collision of textures
Are compositions of each ingredients and
each step:
    The onions, the salt, the applesauce
Slicing, chopping, grating
Frying, failing, hating
Boiling, swirling, burning
Accidents, bad luck
Tripping over, getting up
Panicking, breathing, saying “enough”

And having an end product
Like this
Is
Purpose
It is how it’s supposed to be
You are who you’re supposed to be

When you’re finished, wipe your hands
Wash your plate
Realize you have dishes to do
And more courses
More tastes
To produce

*So that you will never go hungry
With this Circadian Appetite
Norbert Tasev Feb 2022
Others even now only laugh, while your self-pitying triumph slowly collapses and buries you under yourself! Blinding narcissism may haunt the luxurious pink-mask syrupiness of tabloid media, and today, even the self-conceited halal scientists, the planning suicides, are not asked on the wise altars of tolerance: would it have been better to know psychological processes or the chaos formula of brain convolutions?! - Every exibitionist, superficial moment flirts with illusion; the onion skin of the human soul is still always on itself, while the number of days is bargained with itself as a freeloader!

Our pressed confessions of love are often lacking in self-satisfying, passionate romance. Mutual congratulations in an evening of spotlight and rainbow that lasts until midnight hold traps and murderous daggers for each other! Lost in the midst of so many muffled grins, even solidly-supported reality is scrubbed by reversed, pathetic, grotesque roles! On made-up faces like wax-glowing larvae shine fake-measuring emotions and emotions! While the common man queues for autographs, clinging to Golgotha-ridden friendships!

In the hopes of his bogus expectations - honest-to-God friendships - it is a pity to cling on running; it is impossible to escape the arrogant, phlegmatic slogans of publicity - all the falsehoods of the past can be further fixed! Chocolate left out in the sun, like the exaggerated tanning-bed orange-skin, soon melts and is ruined! - Every filling-heart seems to crack sooner or later, when surrounded by rings of sincerity!
Travis Green Aug 2020
Your masculine full-flavored richness
was like the food of the Gods entering
my soul, traversing free within me,
the carnal sweetness of a man so
breathtaking, your great gyrating,
your phenomenal and lickable physique,
the presence and pleasure of you
so truthful and youthful, conquering
my world as I give into your beautiful
blue oceans.  When I stared at your
perfectness, your drizzling dazzle,
you reminded me of the infamous
Apollo, such strength and flexibility,
your fascinating framework, so undeniably
bad, packed with so much loving,
your chest a gorgeous grassland to
lay down on and reminisce about
my life and dreams.  You pulled me
closer into your refreshing energy,
your wonderful waterfalls so magnificently
desirable, surrendering to your silky
wetness, wanting to be a part of you
and never run away from your gratifying
masculinity, to write you inside my heart,
to navigate in and out of your reality,
a lasting sensation, a universe of timeless
affection so inseparable from my essence.
And I flowed into pearly white rivers
of your rainbow rhyming soul, into your
delicious vanilla magic, the salty syrupiness
of *** dripping from your ****,
every nerve within me wildly tingling,
sprung on your perfect ***** head,
covered in your never-ending splendor.
And the smooth strokes of your king-size
shaft in my hand, ******* slow and fast,
the excitement building, the need to be
with you forever steady growing more
and more, so in sync with you, with all
of you, feeling your honeyed treasures,
never stopping, just wanting to be so close
in unity with you that I never let go of these
unapologetic feelings that I have for you.

— The End —