Anthony Bourdain taught us to eat
boldly, with humility, and humanity –
savor the cheeks, the eyes,
the bits we can’t surmise.
This space. This time, this place,
these courses fired upon our souls.
A toast to the kitchen, folx:
Family Meal is universal.
It’s Ace Quadrille Monday at dVerse Poet’s Pub: 44 words, no more, no less (excluding the title,) in a poem that incorporates “ace” somewhere, somehow.
I’m also attempting a second go at Na/GloPoWriMo’s Day Eight prompt: incorporate occupational lingo into your poem.