Sex is Food is Life – Poem

Chefs say food is sexy;
maybe they mean sex on a plate.
Each drizzle of sauce; a finger wipes up a loose drop.
The Mayans
or was it the Aztecs?
believed blood was their life force,
the Romans, water, wine, and God.
I am nothing more than art deco in the wrong time
except for the cigarette in my mouth
the one I don’t smoke but have sampled
from the one you took a drag on, the taste still warm.
I crave oysters, but I can’t eat them.
Filling my body with a poison, I vomit the sea,
the life force, emptied from my body
never more shall I taste it.
Water cures all your ails.
Cry, sweat, or go to the sea.
I say, it’s not just water, but salt water.
I dream of food, never tasting.
I don’t mean I wish to eat,
I dream, fantastical things where food is the bite,
the taste of bon amis.
I sink my teeth into a problem and bite down.
I don’t taste my creations but for the finger
swirled on a plate to catch a last drop.
My sex life is the same.

2 thoughts on “Sex is Food is Life – Poem

Tell Me Your Thoughts (I.E. Leave a Reply)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.