Kitchen Logic

Put in a good day writing today. Got 3.5 pages for Taylor and a few pages for sketching out a new query letter and synopsis. Then I started brain storming on new ideas for the first book and how to tie it into shit I’m working on in the short novel… it all goes on. Needless to day, Zippy has been extremely bored today. But, he did great this morning when we had to move bulls and horses. Unfortunately, no one sees him work that well except me. I mean, he did perfect responding to me and with reading the situation. I can’t brag on my baby boy enough. (Maybe Gram is right; I do treat him better than any boyfriend.)

I know I said I’d have a newsletter coming, but since I don’t have it yet, I’ve decided just to post a poem, flash fiction piece, or something here on the blog. It’s not much, but the writing is why I’m here in the first place. It just takes days like this for me to realize it. So, here’s a piece that everyone has liked so far:

“Kitchen Logic”
There ain’t gonna be no conversation.
‘Cause you don’t even know I’m mad.
Not yellin mad, not screamin mad.
Simmering mad:
where I throw up my hands…
then throw in the laundry.
Sautee mad:
where I cook until my feet bleed.
Roasting mad:
until the half-beef in one freezer
transforms into soups, stews, casseroles
And is in the other freezer.
Basting mad.
Baking mad.
(Not eating mad, are you kidding? I’d get so fat!)
But cooking mad:
At least until I can spice it all away.
But you, you fucked up, buddy.
Step up or step out.
I said out.
You aint gettin’ fed.