One Cheese Rule
No such thing as too much cheese:
(add grapes and taste a kiss)
Puppy treat: Good Girl.
A poem about food.
I will tell you this: I don’t think I’ve ever written any prose in which food doesn’t feature. I have always eaten eagerly. Growing up I was “the trash dump”. I am (just a bit) pickier these days; tricky tongue grows with you, but I wonder if I will be able to write about food on demand, rather than it creeping up on me towards the “Oh, no, I went all Enid Blyton super secret midnight feast on this one” realisation.
My parents love an anecdote from way back: I had a gastrobug and was on a bland diet and I started to feel alive and hungry again. Being good at keeping myself entertained, I sat down to draw and I did a full A4 of all the foods I couldn’t eat until I got better. I remember drawing a hot dog but I don’t actually remember that I was sick.
When I was working on my novel, banging chapters so that they could be workshopped in class, I know some of the stuff I churned was not as wholehearted as it could or should have been. There was a chapter called Sandwiches, however, in which 2 characters discuss some morbid gossip over a plate of (yes, that) and mugs of hot drinks. It was so important for me to make sure these characters ate realistically that I described crumbs on tache and (very rude) chews interjected by loud words of disbelief. Mucky eaters they were.
It’s a short poem but it does not mean that I do not mean it just as much as if it were an epic.
You could call it a way of life and a direct quote. It also feels quite disjointed but I think I need dinner.