In a Gourmet Narcosis

A Culinary Voyage Through the Surreal

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

Sacred Pause in a Gourmet Abyss

While with sacred service suspended –

. Day one, and the divine aura awaits.

.

For the last two weeks – what the heck? –

Knowledge brewed in a kitchen,

something gourmet stewing for a night none could pin.

. Hard times linger, shadows over the stove.

**Yet I linger, let me know of the time lost.**

. Please, don’t harsh my mellow, my zen untouched –

You can’t blame me, “For You,” mental illness walks beside me –

Summers-cent darling, pass the vibes, let them flow,

Don’t glance back. I still feel regal – like a king.

. “Holla!” if you hear me, morning rises with an exclamation point.

.

Blind to heartstrings, Delilah, goodbye’s phantom clutching that lifeline.

**Good morning, neighbour, no PRs –

Ghosts have ceased their lies here.**

Best friends? Oh dear,

cleanse your windows. Blame it on the youth.

Uptown boys’ crocodile tears –

. Last Friday, something was clear.

Days filled with fragments, assembling pieces,

mechanisation required –

All we’ve got: chicken noodle soup.

So slow, or dreams that churn near the surface?

**Oh heavens, reflections on the porch,**

And that’s the microfiche fly’s paperwork. In my rose garden,

never cry wolf.

Fragmented realities knit together:

Sprays of thought,

abstract collisions,

Poetry’s realm meets musing minds –

. And everything in between.