Yesterday there was a post on Dining@Large about the lack of dim sum places in the Baltimore area. Maybe that is true. But would you want to go to this dim sum place? And could you ever sleep afterwards? Another disturbing food poem. Enjoy.
Dim Sum
Things are out of place.
Pearl earring in an oyster
served by a bony waitress
minus an ear. Big dogs
tied to a flagpole howl
from un-tongued mouths,
having chewed them in
error. In a graceless
Chinese restaurant, a boy wearing one black mitten
brings a dish of Szechuan finger sausages.
Now Tommy and Maria gnaw on
fistfuls of barbecue wings.
In the lot behind the Golden Palace
I search my pockets for car keys while
Maria fans her hand to lick at the hidden flavor.
Half-seen in the dusty gravel, five wingless crows with yellowed
beaks wrestle, hop and roll, scratch and poke for the
privilege of pecking out our eyes while we dream and digest. 
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2 comments:
Hi Owl,
PCB Rob here. Been visiting your blog since you resurrected it. You mentioned that you don't like poetry, yet you post a lot of it.
I don't like poetry either, but some of the stuff you post is pretty good.
Out there, but good nonetheless.
I don't like poetry in general because most of the published stuff is so boring. Obviously I do like some.
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