Menu of the Day

This is where I start, the beginning of a poem. Gee, the faceless memories are blanketing the beach! The sweet sweat of anise seeds wets dried olden throats matching with precious emerald stones and feta of the gods, dressed in earth’s natural, colorful skin to satisfy a hunger where I watched this fairest of them all trudging through the sand dunes. O, her foot-prints, left un-touched! I wanted to measure her smile, but my commander has taken the order of my day to other station. There, I imitated Steven Segal’s expertise chopping veggies, for a soup.