26 WINGS OF GRATITUDE / SAID GRACE 4.5

ate loads of em

vis-à-vis in relation to these /bless
u bless me with
regards to and concerning
and in terms of and in
the same vein in the
same school of thinking /sinking
shrinking ships i’m flickin chips
/disinterested, distinguished guests once
masticating now digest that
all you can eat chicken wing buffet/AKA
~wing(s?/ed?) wednesdays~

and guess what, i got honorary man o’ the match
yeah 26 wings knocked me for 6 n here i sit

keepin hydrated/stomach gyrates from
inflation n even these sea
faring legs can’t hack it in the kitchen

i stand upright, fightin /chicken on the mind
sea sick /forget chicken/ fingers crossed
digestion quickens n i’m stricken by the
chicken shivers /the shakes and a swig
to steady those hands /one must
cultivate ones own garden so

i get my 2 litres in n i wake up dryer
n on some flyer some drunk man passed me
‘disco from 9, n 5 before 12’ n infinite
chickens do the maths for infinity n
you end up with the entire works of shakespeare

n it’s like the last days of rome in here

an eat all you can buffet it’s a
you can eat all if you can it’s an
all of you, eat if you can if you
eat all you can /bill please
bill please/more water
chicken slaughter n i’m ashamed to say
they didn’t taste free-range to a well trained palette/ yeah chickens – i’ve had it /yeah sorry
i’m full / i feel guilty
but i guess i felt less guilty
when i finished you /finished food

..food chain’s fucked mate yeah you fucked it
n yeah you fund it

so repent, repent n will your guilt
to transcend proximity n
apathy n chicken-borne lethargy!

an ode to these/their legacy
from me at least
n this is something of a grace belated, said while bloated
chickens croaked bukaw’d they cawed
we’re wingless we surround you in your
dreams we came and found you
we wing-clipped you / we devoured you

and you were all that could be ate in the name
of some wednesday

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when ill: on cooking

I cough lots and this is just a recap
a catch up n chicken curry didn’t clog me
chicken tandoori with flavours what floored me
got taught it once/it’s an overnight ting n when it comes to cooking
I’m not

as previously established i’m a one pot
slow fry, cauldron /whisk
asterisk I use other pots to boil usually
and a grill or an oven sometimes but yeah other than that
I stay on brand and use the same wok what I ‘fand
when walkin to my house, went back the long way
and yeah maybe I’ll try rememberin how to make that cu-ray

an h(/fr)omage to how i used to sound

sounds like a
crises plural/ lice
surround me/ hounds like
dinner time gather round
the waterin hole on the dole
on the day and
on the day that morning she
did her business blending as she do

shallow fryin she misses the way
she used to see all kinds of food get
wrought and grated
moulded and broiled and
covered in sweaty pastries n
wrapped in thinly cut meats
nondescript slabs of meats
peppered and slapped and ground grimacing

the way she used to see him ooze it/the way
he embodied soft cheese conceptually
trudged around proudly he felt
adequate thanks to her
knowing gaze