Dear ol' dad loved
the way our mom
made fried clams.
It stood to reason
that a deep fat fryer
would be the perfect
Christmas present for her.
He proudly placed it
under the sad, Charlie Brown, tree
he purchased for 3 bucks
two minutes before the lot closed,
on Christmas eve 1955.
The expression
of disappointment
on our mom's face,
evident to me
but masked for
my younger siblings,
made for one of my sadder
Christmas mornings.
Dear ol' dad, as usual,
was half-lit and clueless.
She died way too young.
He eventually used the pot
to melt lead for sinkers.
I never eat fried clams.
A fried chicken burp can be akin to gargling a pear juice by a slip stream. But do not slip. Or wave with both hands whilst drinking. Dangerous deadly dares derive during demonic demonstrations. And the interjecting spittle from a giant llama. Towering over trees. With the neck stuck in clouds. Very great to watch formation of sky from that angled position. And quite likely to witness unidentified flying crafts. Well so says sloth in the high branches. Great. Fantastical frameworks framing frilly frogs. In ball rooms. Globally. Grin then. Pleasurable synchronization of parade of a wealthier under suit. And wobbling along came the strawberry moose dressed in a tall glass with a creamed cherry hat. Chats away to the dipping spoon. With a triangular shaped mouth. Hahaha derived dog detail. Hahaha wavelength wobbling wonder. Hahaha geranium garden growing growling gates. Hate not a hidden haven. Xxxx hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliaophobi a and that's the latest from the p y q at 89.900000.
Are we dying to get a taste of the American Dream that we've got fat and glutinous, deep fried in greed.
Are we dying to feast on a God given intervention, with gnarled hands waiting to connect with the customer service extension.
Are we all so obsessed with consuming the world, that we've forgot what it's like on the outside of a store.
Waiting to receive a gadget or the next best thing, Christmas came twice and we didn't have to wait through Halloween.
I'm feelin' real goodah in my bermuda
munching on crisp, deep-fried barracuda.
It amuses me to think that on my plate
pieces of a ferocious predator wait
to be poked and stabbed by my silvery fork.
It could've been me in the jaws of this dork.
Is this the terrible terror of the sea?
Why, in bite-sizes it indeed is tasty,
dipped in sauce of vengeance, great delicacy!
There is a place in Texas
Just a shack, a place to dine
They serve a strange creation
But a pleasure you will find
Deep fried chicken biscuits
With mashed potatoes and apple pie
Will leave your stomach full and glad
Just like a vintage wine
This creation sounds quite odd
But a simple receipt
Chicken breast and biscuit dough
Deep fried in harmony
Topped off with country gravy
Served hot with sweet ice tea
You better get there early
To insure a time to eat
Amazing how a little
Run down shack could be a place
Where people from all walks of life
Have made a successful place
So look around the place you live
I’m sure that you will find
A little diner just like this
To enjoy some meat and pie