Food Goes In, Poetry Comes Out # 1

I work in East London, which can mean over an hour of travelling to and from my home. If I want to go to poetry events, I have to eat out (if I want to eat, which I do). In order to make this more productive and worthwhile, I thought I would use it to aid my creativity. I’m going to post up a series of poems in the category ‘Food Goes In, Poetry Comes Out’ which will consist of poems that I write whilst eating my dinner before going to gigs. This will last as long as I’m still living with my parents, or until I run out of steam with it… whichever comes first. Here are the first three I finished last month.

October 002

The Beer House, Waterloo

9th October 2013

Beer House, you have redeemed yourself from our last meeting. Well done.
As I reached into the familiar cup-like bowl (again, surprisingly small)
I had a flashback to the frustration at finding, after pouring my favourite liquid
(gravy) over the mini steak and ale pie, the aforementioned pie was cold.
I had left the premises and bought a Cornish Pasty from the station instead.
As you can imagine, my stomach had a difficult decision in coming back
(today’s alternative was sushi).

So, when I reached for a tortilla chip
to scoop up some chilli con carne, I was pleasantly relieved. Surprised, also,
that such a small bowl could be so filling. That said, here I am, subtly
sneaking Skittles into my mouth with my glass of over-priced orange juice.

 

October 054

Bukowski Grill

15th October 2013

I almost forgot to eat. Almost.
Quick crossing and up those familiar steps
for a chicken burger and chips
far superior to Maccy Ds. Charcoal
and BBQ sauce – my favourite condiment.
I wished
to have a pot
to dip
these oil drenched chips, so bad
and yet so good. Crispy on the outside
yet so soft once bitten. I wonder
how people can just miss meals like
oh tomorrow, we’ll cram for the exam,
or get sushi-to-go on the last train home.
I almost for go to eat. Almost.
I am not quite like them yet.

October 058

Vegetable Korma, The Gallery Cafe

17th October 2013

The night I got locked in the school
I had a vegetable korma.
I don’t know whether it was
the relief of getting out the building
but joy exuded it like steam;
I also got it with a voucher,
which was an added bonus
that made me feel
deserving of dessert.
I’m generally more of a
chicken bhuna girl,
been warming to massala,
but a vegetarian korma
seemed the best option;
jasmine rice in a perfect mound
with carrot and broccoli masquerading as meat,
a touch of spinach and sultanas in the mix,
sweet and coconut, delight in creamy sauce,
leave the salad to the side.

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About carminamasoliver

I'm an ex-UEA writer from South London. Founder of She Grrrowls. Feminist Arts Writer for The Norwich Radical. BAR poet. Published by Nasty Little Press.
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