I hear the cookbooks in the kitchen--
garrulous relics from pre-digital times.
They flop around on the floor. They
gossip about how and what I cook.
"Seriously," one of them says, "if he's
going to improvise all the time,
why consult us, why insult us?"
God damn their greasy pages.
The chefs who authored them: bah!
No one should be famous for cooking.
A cat has heard the books now.
He becomes a lynx and bounds
off into the kitchen. It's quiet
in their all of a sudden. That's right:
close yourselves, you recipe barns.
Digest your dissatisfaction.
hans ostrom 2017
garrulous relics from pre-digital times.
They flop around on the floor. They
gossip about how and what I cook.
"Seriously," one of them says, "if he's
going to improvise all the time,
why consult us, why insult us?"
God damn their greasy pages.
The chefs who authored them: bah!
No one should be famous for cooking.
A cat has heard the books now.
He becomes a lynx and bounds
off into the kitchen. It's quiet
in their all of a sudden. That's right:
close yourselves, you recipe barns.
Digest your dissatisfaction.
hans ostrom 2017
