Never, ever, let pride get in the way of a good meal – A man with no name
A couple of cheap tricks bought you a quick trip to the promised lands / of fast food, freezer bags, and deep-fried something or others / that filled the half but not the hole / in my stomach / or my heart.
Rations ran slim as the gnawing hunger seeped into my skin and soul / watching the rich kids toss out their “waste” / while the slums suffered shortages / of sustainable goods / like food on the table at every meal.
Desperate stances robbed you of standards / junk food for the soul and soul mates that rot you to the core / as banquets bought with blood money / fester, decay, and turn sickeningly sweet / but you still eat / because hunger never sleeps / even if you do.
It wasn’t starvation / but it wasn’t the salvation / of the north side sit down diner / where the food didn’t smell like cigarette smoke and whisky stains / and the waitstaff didn’t reek of desperation and a needed paycheck / but the food I ate kept me alive / because that’s what they focus on / that I survived / even though I stayed hungry / every step of the way.
Peanut Butter & Peach Preserves
Simple pleasures bring simple joys
in a world over-done, overcooked, burnt near a crisp.
Soft tones of flavor fleck gentle over taste buds and settle nerves.
Calm calamities and subtle shifts of static
go unnoticed for a brief moment
as a situational snack fills sunken eyes
with signs of life.
Flavors concisely coalesce into one wonderful,
momentary pause in the chaos
as three simple ingredients take me back
to a time before I knew the world was wrong
and that I was poor.
Death Smells Like Strawberries
The kitchen is empty, save for one set
of slightly busted, bandaged hands
that labor slowly over soft heat.
Slow rolled dough and carefully crafted molds
cling to the filling crammed carefully into crust
brought just below a boil
so it only bakes.
Gentle scents wharf from the concoction
and he collapses
because that smell still reminds him
About the Author: Hello, my name is Evan Schoettle and I just have a general love of poetry and writing in general. I believe that writing of any kind has the potential to spread inspiration the world over, and if I can do something even remotely similar, I consider my work a success.