Poem: Christmas Food

Writing

Food.

So bad, yet so good.

So many colours, so many textures.

So many food poisonings taken for the pleasure.

 

You gave me gout last Christmas Eve,

But I don’t hold it against you, you see,

For I know our relationship is solid.

Once the doctor unclogs my arteries.

 

This Christmas things will be different.

You promised we’d take things slower.

If I end up back in the kidney stones ward.

I’m afraid our fond relationship may be over.

 

3 thoughts on “Poem: Christmas Food

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