Good food left to rot.
That's a way to say "leftovers"
and feel guiltier, I guess.
But
how good was that food,
if it didn't tempt us
to ingest?
All cold and bowled
and clumped and
congealed, sitting
in the fridge, what's left
of a meal to serve as
another meal,
perchance. Or, you know
we could have hot dogs
and dance
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Saturday, December 05, 2020
good food left to rot
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