Seems like everyone's a foodie these days, or else you are an anti-foodie. Whatever gets you off is tickled by the following observations:
1. Don't be fooled by some hack cookbook writer who tells you you can
cook if you only have too many eyes on your arms and not enough on your
face. It simply will not work out.
2. Eat donuts in excess only a few times a year. Then make food porn of it for the Internet to chomp on while you're in detox.
Yella Snow
3. DO NOT EAT THIS^
4. This book taught me that my breakfast cereal is a delicious, libido-enhancing way to start my day, with the knowledge that I am cool.
Not to be confused with the narcissistic disorder involving the overuse of a certain social online forum
It is indeed the time of year for things to spring, including those things that don't need the sunshine to do so. In honor of us poor daft fools searching for our own heads in the weeds, and to the myriad distractions and projects we become involved in to keep us from defenestrating, I dedicate this playlist. Let it, and this poem by my sometime friend D.A. Powell fill your orifices.
"Sprig of Lilac"
in a week you could watch me crumble to smut: spent hues
spent perfumes.dust upon the lapel where a moment I rested
yes, the moths have visited and deposited their velvet egg mass
the gnats were here: they smelled the wilt and blight.they salivated
in the folds of my garments: you could practically taste the rot
look at the pluck you've made of my heart: it broke open in your hands
oddments of ravished leaves: blossom blast and dieback: petals drooping
we kissed briefly in the deathless spring.the koi pond hummed with flies
unbutton me now from your grasp.no, hold tighter, let me disappear
into your nostrils, into your skin, a powdering smudge against your rough cheek
(from Chronic; Graywolf Press, St. Paul, MN; 2009)
