Around where I live

Oh hey. So I never said this was going to be about food, only, right? I said I would TRY to keep this mostly about food. But that from time to time, other fancies might overpower the food fetish ("might" being an almost-afterthought, but the operative word here). Tsk… so here’s to the fine print and disclaimers you all never read (and I may never have written!).

 Then again, think about this, will you. Feasting could involve any of the five senses, could it not?

Well, for your sakes and mine, let’s just hope it involves only the two most tangible ones for now!

So on a weekend when I am not out and about stuffing my face, and being a pig in general, I use my other senses to feast. Most notably, the permanent lenses in the top half of my face. Yes, those would be my eyes, you geniuses. I am curious and wonder-struck about the world at large, yes, even at my ripe old age of almost a crypt-keeper-like number.

Here’s to some quirky eye candy then, until the food fetish returns!

He and I 

“When words run dry

he does not try,
nor do I.

We are on par.
 

He just is,

I just am
and we just are.”

 -          By Lang Leav

 

Dressing Cynthia

I am not a cold Cynthia,

with pearls, then. Am I?
My lips too warm for lies
of the sort you know

But there you go, again

Dressing me up
In a brush-stroked salmon pink dress

Asking me to dance the Merengue,

white orchids at my feet
fairy lights around my neck;
my salmon pink dress swirling about me.

“May I have the pleasure of this dance?”

I give you my chandelier-smile and say
“I am just a headless mannequin…
And there are no encounters by chance.”

 

(P.S. I always quote the poems written by others. Those without acknowledgment, therefore, can safely and lawsuit-lessly be assumed to be my own. That, however, does not give any of you the liberty to re-post any of this stuff on Pinterest or Tumblr, or wherever else, without referencing back to me.)