Food Poems

Poetry is not dead and food talk is sexy

Cilantro

She’s sassy and grassy
A zing to make you sing
She’s bitter but not a quitter
& brings your food-game to fame
Don’t you know her though?
They call ‘er Cilantro
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Salt

Like a blanket of snow
Taking a much-deserved bow
After the show
*Silence*
Granules sprinkle from her fingers
Lying at peace on a fresh cut beet
Purple stain on the cutting board lingers
The hot oil and seasoned beet meet
*Crackling*
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