i saw one g7y on youtube use a bunch of double cream but i don’t fuck with/like that

Séguin,_Armand_-_Two_Thatched_Cottages_(Les_deux_chaumières)_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg
pic totally unrelated
the first time i saw this i knew i wanted to use it for a poem
and who knows when i’ll write my next poem, right?/1/1/1!!?!?!?!?

last few hey-ho
ups n downs n wasted time
let jealousy get the better of me it
sits me down and keeps me sat
indefinitely indubitably i should review
what i currently consider priorities

italian food en masse
excuse my french but this pot bellies worth it
for the pasta pon pasta yeah
some kids’ take on
flavours and recipes passed down through generations
globalised commodified commercialised n
fetishised but i like to think i treat italian food with
some degree of respect
except when i do the funny accent /that’s not cool

maybe i should turn this into some kind of food blog
gods know; the rich ingredients
that once constituted the vast seemingly
endless simmering sauce that was my poetry
have run dry /their
excitable saucier in the sky jaded

so without further ado i’d like to like to talk you through
~my recipe instructions~
~for a slimy carbonara~
that’ll mentally take you to the italian riviera
and didnt’cha know that mediterranean people live-a for long’a (sorry)
serves:1 (because if you are anything like me
you are alone and largely miserable)

you need
spaghett of some kind
bacon or panchetta
few eggs n some parmasan
butter or olive oil but ideally both my friends
black pepper and garlic please
optional parsley /mushrooms n
cherry-boy tomatoes
maybe some rocket i guess

prep first if you don’t chop good
otherwise boil spaghett right the heck now (this evening i will
be using linguine)

PREP:
chop bacon
panchetta if you’re feelin bougie
the egg sauce (SEE: the egg sauce)

OK now chuck a wad o butter in a pan n watch it melt
huff it and be rallied/hurry crush a couple cloves
(of garlic) chuck em in n take a moment
to savour the fragrance
no time/ throw in the bacon
let it brown stir it round & for the ‘optional’ few
add mushrooms around now
cherry-boys whenever you want depending on your preference

timing timing timing timing
i’m not a youtube video or a cookbook
i’m a poem that is potentially
primarily written to inform
(make the egg sauce around now (SEE: the egg sauce))

go ahead and scoop out them cloves asshole
your pasta should be ready around now
so drain it and throw it in the bacon pan
toss it maybe put in a little pasta water
turn the hob off

extremely high level stuff.
the egg sauce:::
couple egg yolks n grated parmasan
or pecorino according to elitist fatboy jamie oliver
and his padrone puppetmasters
yeah beat and whisk that cheese on sight n
pour the sauce on over your pasta
and let me tell you
the warmth of the pasta alone will
get the eggs to where they need to be (AN AMAZING SCIENTIFIC FACT)
mark my words

i swear to you
on my youth and my admittedly
shredded tattered dignity
that sauce and your bacon grease will be complicit in creating
what is commonly regarded as a carbonara sauce, my friends

pepper parsley pepper more
i love a peppery carbonara me and
i’m sure you will too
with mushies and cherry-boys optional /toss it all
linguin-e ideall-y
serve it up/ grate more cheese whatever

and there you, as they say, have it
by far the tastiest poem i’ve ever written
and relatively, by a far smaller margin the healthiest********
potentially the most informative
potentially the least poetic

************except for that one about nuts and dried fruits

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when wanting to want becomes wanting

1277px-Édouard_Manet_-_The_Toilers_of_the_Sea_-_Google_Art_Project

i am but a cabin boy on choppy waters, land ho(?)
pic somewhat related



writing on an empty stomach
losing juice losing weight but
persisting with what i perceive as lost

long for the quick grat’
on screen endeavours
the quick fixes, the
slow burners the
self consuming fallacies
that shits BAD for me

long to feel proud/to
read back like i did good n
walk proud the next day like
i is good

confidence confidence confidence momentum
these words is whatever/i’ve skipped
to the back of the queue, got hoops
to re jump n re-re jump through
n press ups n clap press ups
star jumps mentally, teach me what a jumping jack is
n i’ll fucking turn it into a take down or a submission move
i’m adaptable, i’m ice cold
i’m a killer/i got you in a jumping jack
half master nelson lock-hold AKA the
death lock-hold
make you tap out like ding-ding-ding/watch you
walk home in shame/have you followed n
flogged n brought to me alive n
defiled/watch me hop back into the queue like i’m
not back/possibly
never gonna be back possibly
never gonna feel ready or
feel like these are the days
or like i’m on form these days
but at least maybe possibly
there’s a chance that i could ever so slightly
be improving mentally
edging closer to something loosely resembling
stability