Large Lunch
Tips slide on smeared plastic
A decision is mulled
With a mantra of “Ah”
A muscle curls on lips
A ritual is completed
A summoning has been made
A Wizard scribes a spell
And stabs a wand into parchment
An alchemist perspires in stained robes
His spiced feet rolling damp powders
While fur-lined arms are coated
With primordial makeup
Meat is seared
A cage is knocked on wet steel
An ambiguous fish is baptised
In melted fat, flour and malted hops
The blind browning beast floats
A bubble of batter splatters
And forms a drifting island
Chunks of slaughtered perennial nightshade
Are Launched
Splashing in a puff of oil
An oversized chrome spoon scrapes
A pot of coagulating orange
Excess nuggets of crushed haricot
Are tapped back to a collective
The pot approves with a
Plop Plop Plop
A dial rotates and clicks
Metal rattles and vibrates
A creature is drained
Cuboids crackle outside of their bath
A disc is weighted by their combination
And at its curved edge 26 refugees
Hide under a starchy canopy
The Mage arrives exactly
When the platter is placed
With Talons pointing down
The Thaumaturge pinches green
Over a corpse
A rough thick dip is
Scooped and slung
Then, a plump proportion of fleshy pulp
Is dropped
To bleed on grease
The Sorcerer strides
And shoulders do not bob
The ceramic oval is landed
With no noise
“Thank you for your patience”
“Enjoy your meal”
“Ooh can I have some sauce?”
“Yeah, what would you like?”
“Barbecue sauce, lots of Barbecue sauce.”
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