"Such is" the Culinary Butchering of Culture

Draft:

    

Teenagers fill time with fugitive

Cream-filled French-fancies

Determined to drown and displease

Protective parents

And adult animosity

In favour of a     child’s          cacophonous                  curiosity.

Caustic

        Comments cast by cruelty,
        
                                            Are diagnostic

                                                                               Of disenchanted congruity

Amongst the Empire of in-Pain infants

Not yet wisened to the weary world of tormented truth.

Such comments concealed within

        Seditious sips of vermouth.

Under         Venus’        vermillion         veranda,

Whispers of lust meander

                            And whip

In walnut whirls of aphrodisiacs.

After a purge of the past

(Last night’s

American pecan pie,

Filipino Palitaw,

Mexican Pan de Muerto,

French profiteroles,

And a Palmer House brownie from Chicago),

They surpass

The tangible promise of physical agency

And became acknowledged absentees.

They feather step to a friendless foxtrot;

                            The dance of death

Upon the lugubrious river Lethe.

Lost in the loneliness of London Bridge’s

                Bustling bars,

They breathe in the brevity

Of a Belgian Budweiser –

Warming in the hearth of The Sheaf’s

Crackling cognac-coloured heath -

Soon to evaporate into London’s scintillating sphere

Of wandering          Spaniards at             the Inn

Of immortal artistry.

Meanwhile,

They abandon their ghastly

And vastly

Broken bodies

To mortal hell

In Hatamah,

As though sacrificial lambs –

Lining the Lethe for Lucifer’s chosen children.



Spectators of sadness,

Are condemned by diagnoses of madness-

Chronically seduced by the blackness

Of betrayed beauty;

Submerged in orange blossom water.

Baklavas induce madness

                                        And   

An urge to 

Be submerged in

A butter - bubble bath,

        Where fluoxetine filled 

                             

                                    Filo-pastries transform a shell-shocked cartridge

                                                                                    Lined with pistachio,

Into a lemon,

And Cardamom

            Heaven.



An acrylic glaze

Of Thatcher’s Haze

Is painted upon fragile,

                        Fermented flesh.

Shrouded by the sun in cloudy cider.

Facial depravities

            Caused by Cadbury crafted cavities,

Are deepened by the daily driving of Double Deckers

Controlled

By depression and

London’s littered asphalt;

An assault

On fissured faces –

Embossed in the bricks of Fenchurch Street,

Where women conceal themselves in pigmented concrete

To feel as invisible as city-salted meat,

In this mansplaining

            And man-reigning

                                Realm

                                Of corporate craftsmanship.

Wasabi-wealth.

The Black Sheep hides under scaffolding.

The ‘evolutionary elite’ dine at Darwin Brasserie

Inspired by the very best of British.



Sweat saturates the escalators at Seven Sisters

    Underground station.  

Smells of Snicker bars

Compete with the otherworldly musk of mars.

Nearby,

Bodies float in Wonka’s reservoirs,

And Victoria

Finds her floating bra

Filled with caressing caramel -

Coated in milk

                    Chocolate -

Eliciting a lascivious wink

            From men on the brink

Of primal barbarity.

Virile vulgarity.

A lactating sister;

                    A resister

Of opposition to the Equality Act smiles -

Determined to detract

                Discomfort.

Meanwhile,

The carriage fills with

Garlic infused salami,

        Salmon sashimi,

                    Over-salted spam,

                            And crumb-contaminated strawberry jam.

Such indecent ingredients are imposed upon a commuting body,

But ‘don’t laugh’

Because ‘every pixel of that man’s skin

Is shot

    Through with indelible ink’

And his ‘deflated face and shrunken scalp’ is filled with salmon-pink

    Petals;

        Pictures of potent potpourri

                                        Engraved into the putrid artistry

                                                                                        Of decrepitude.

Detailed fantasies of farfalle

Decorate the arms of fantasising actresses;

Slaughtered Lambs

                In Farringdon.

Mumburger.

Forlorn flavoured food

        With aged fat,

            Festers as gym rats

                Measure each morsel in macro-nutrients.

Odours of less salubrious sauces

Strive to penetrate waffles soaked in molasses

At Mercato Metrapolitano.

Violent crimes are committed by caster sugar,

Seduced by Hershey’s hooker

Parading Park Lane’s parlours,

                                Filled with the thangs

                                                                   Of insatiable monsters;

Mobsters

            Of meagreness

                            In Notting Dale.



Poverty-paved paths

Garnished with garam masala,

Groan and

Moan

In unquenchable

        Metabolic activity –

                            Collectively

From chefs of comestible creativity.



An erstwhile eatery

                        (Arcadian Café),

Weeps as though a Banshee

Heralding the death of one’s ethnicity.

A Bhindi Ghost

From Pakistan,

Haunts the Taste Of Punjab –

Built in Pushkar,

By Bulleh

                Shah.

His spirit swims in the spices of sag

                                                             Aloo,

Breathing in black mustard seeds

That hide amongst wilted spinach leaves –

Heralded by Joe Wicks.

A local grieves

For Gujranwala -

                    The "City of Wrestlers".

Goat heads and trotters argue

For culinary acclaim.

Dismembered bodies

Disclaim

            The Shame

Of cultural appropriation;

Conflation

            And alteration

                            Of ancient nations.

Scarified lamb

(Haleem)

Gives God the gift of gastronomical gluttony,

And a religious right to decree

The prolific use of ghee

                            In Gorkhali

                            (Nepalese lamb curry).

Such a sacred thief of thinness

Thrives in the consumption of bodies

Bred to

            Shed

                    Blood.



Amidst the mentality of convenience,

Creatures “farmed” in concentration camps

And cleaned in chlorine,

Invite impatient people to dine,

            Expand their limitless waistline,

            And resign

To a life of unrepairable recline.

Meanwhile,

        A child-friendly meal,

Designed to be an infallible ideal,

And entice younger consumers

To consume

        Chemical elements,

Whilst staring at a cardboard box,

Becomes a detox

            For comatosed capitalists

                    Caught in the mists

                                Of money making

                                            In             Frisco.

Families fattened on Crisco;

Hydrogenated meat -

                    A treat

For America’s daily athlete

No longer able to squeeze into a supersized car seat.

A dangerous and discreet

                        Plan

To bring calorific-culture

To poor benighted

                        Sport-inspired ignoramuses.

An insidious

Exploitation

Of economic pharmaceutical-power

At Trump Tower -

Architecturally weary

                With wealth.

Elsewhere,

Homes inhabited by financial frugality

Are painted

By hunger-pained

                Proletariats -

                        Expats

                            From Lithuania,

Swindled in the stockyards

                        Of Chicago

By monsters

Making money for mental-magic;

                                                                                Methamphetamine.



Crazed canteens,

Constructed with the delicacy that is chicken spleen,

                                                                Consumed by high society,

Perish in the privilege

Of the monotony

That is selected sobriety –

Far from the  surveillance of Victory

                                                Gin;

Alcohol-oppressed autonomy

In a propaganda-            propelled economy.

The ultimate victory

Of this Party

Is set to vanquish the human spirit

Through inebriating spirits -

                    Poisoning people through Paris quadrifolia;

True lover's knot.

Not yet consumed by a parched pair

Entwined in a Mayfair

Mastered affair.

Hélène Darroze,

And Jean-Georges

Embraced

Amid the

Edacious

Elegance of

Elongating oesophagi,

                    Whilst carrying

                        Imperial gold caviar,

Black truffle gougère,

And cherry glazed goat cheese soaked in Kirsch liqueur

At Coburg Bar.

“PLACERE PLACET”;

“It pleases to please” people

Who absorb alcohol

Through guillotined gills

                That swim through

                            István Szepsy’s

                                Sommelier-salted seas

                                            On a soft and balmy Sunday night.

Seared sweet-potato skins

    Are seen through the herbaceous and

        Inebriated eyes

Of an “UGLY BETTY”

Submerged in swinging sounds and

Sleepy smokiness

Reminiscent of Ronnie Scott’s

                    On 30 October 1959

                            Boasting a £60 SYLVAN.

A comforting and enigmatic powerful impression,

Concurrently

Cast upon Cirque du Soleil,

Whirls

"Behind Closed Doors"

At La Bibliothèque

In Dalston.

Dreamers and

 Readers

Drunk on

William Faulkner’s

                            W a n d e r i n g          whiskey

Recite:

"My mother is a fish."

Transitive property

Plated upon dishes

Made of marbled grouper,

Are groped by blinded

Bureaucrats

Swallowing Royal Beluski caviar

At Bentley’s Oyster

                    Bar and Grill

                    At one’s well-endowed will,

Whilst served by Kurdish krill;

Sapiens

Swallowed by society on

Swallow Street.

The "Small fry of fish"

Absorb into an imperceptible territory –

Trophic level three –

                Consumed by apex predators

Who hunt keystone creditors -

                            Indebted for their imperative

                                                    Resistance

                                                    To elimination,

Yet when placed upon a

                    "Royal Shellfish Platter",

                    Their cause ceases to matter.

A langoustine-made loan,

                Make mussels moan

In the Bleak Midwinter.

Lobster

(Bisque),

Soaked in

            Brandy,

            Tarragon,

             And Chantilly cream

                                        Screams

As Rick Stein

Drowns her butchered body

In brown butter,

To later be thrown up into a gutter

After a surplus of smoked negroni.

Such is the experience of the lowly

                                        Waiter

                        

                                                Swallowed by society  

                                                                    On Swallow Street.



Faulkner’s

Fugitive whiskey-washed high-ballers

Berate the sweet body of

Tokaji

    (and)

        Szamorodni

                    Worth £32 per 100 millilitres.

Japanese black sirloin steak

                                            Eaters

Entrust Hungary’s historically

Hubristic and hungry

Humans,

    Who drink £80 priced glasses of small red wine

And who pretend to be fine

                                            Diners

At The Hill

In Greenwich -

Occasionally accompanied by Doris Diether 

Before she retired to Carols’ Place

                                                    At dusk.

Meanwhile, Elon Musk

Serves

Simmering

Solutions at dawn,

For Gen-Z body-conscience spawn.

'Power up'

With 200g of baseball cut sirloin steak,

            Poached eggs,

            And a sugar-free

                    Toffee-

                        Syrup

                        Decaf coffee -

                                

           A breakfast trio arrogantly advised 

To provide 'massive gains'

And is linked to 'being awesome’ –

                    As though the two are mutually

                                            Exclusive;

A prelusive

Provision

Provided 

To justify eating 19.9 kg of carbon emissions

By 08:00am in the morning.

Emission-eating is endorsed by

TicTok-tainted teens

            Poisoned by the privilege

Of being 'awesome' online;

Gaining masses of followers 

By sharing

Scripted slurps 

Of sucking on steak juice.

Mukbang.

Mukbang

    Marionettes

        Swallow

The swindling sperm

Of lucrative

Millionaires,

Whilst consuming carafes

                            Of calories

                                    For ‘likes’ -

A lonely lifestyle

Lived by bulimia beguiled,

                Social-media styled

                                Slurpers;

                        Self-observers

                                Of obligated obesity.



Polish Hungarian

                Wine merchants

Sit upon a salubrious menu

Brewed by Jerry Thomas -

The father of American mixology.

Coded

And encrypted   

    Cocktails,

          Are covertly cosseted

Within The Connaught -

To later be

Disclosed by Nicolas Rouzaud

                    During a rendezvous

With Adam Lajca -

            Smoking Montecristo Sublimes

In

Montmartre,

                France.

Famished-infused death

Caused by

A hiatus on the sales

Of Connaught house specials.

Saint-Honoré,

Hazelnut Paris-Brest,

And Connaughty

                        Hound,

Hound through ravenous

And screaming oesophagi

Gagged by

Epicures

        At Epicures 

Located in the heart of Glasgow's West End.

Etonian epicures 

            

                    Take pleasure in gastronomical grandeur.

Great Classics Never Fade

When taking a 

Tour Around The Wine World -

Consisting of a sorority

            Of Sommeliers

                        Sipping

                        Smederevka

                        From Bulgaria

Alongside Isa Bal.

Finally,

They fine dine

On Dickens

And the thwarted future of

                        Cayenne pepper

                                        pressure-cooked chickens;

Too seductive to be saved,

Yet too basic to be murdered for Michelin

                                        Manufactured kitchens.

Plucked personnel,

Employed in Kentucky,

Cry as the continuous conveyor belt

Of antibodies,

Whom harbour in

Their inhumanely treated homes,

                                    Retreat

Into Boneless Banquet Box Meals.

Meanwhile,

                Deals

Are made by vendors

To manufacture buttermilk marinated tenders.

A Modern Langshan lady

Foresightedly laments

Her scheduled mastectomy -

                        Diarised to dissect

                        Meat from around her tender breast;

A lady designed to become pulverized chicken flesh

Or a gourmet goujon

                    Garnished with grief.

She grieves her diner-dimmed reality,    

Whereby she is readily washed down with a milky

Cup of KFC

                    Machine-produced tea.



Industrialised Ixworth-eating narcissists,

Suffering from hamartia,

                                Harmonise

As they methodically

Map the imperious steps of

Macbeth

Meandering through realms

Of unchecked ambition -

Humming to unbearable ballads 

            Orchestrated by Banquo’s apparition,

And the violent cries of Viola;

A versed voice

Rendered voiceless

Beneath the

Vivacious sounds of violas and violins

That vibrate to Chopin’s

Fantaisie-Impromptu.

Meanwhile,

        James Shapiro

Unravels

Irrefragable psychic disruptions

Experienced by ancestral crypto-Jews;

Moshe Maimon painted Marranos -

Counterfeit Converts

To Christianity

Whom clandestinely consume

Wild Scottish langoustines,

                                And loquaciously         speak in adopted

Shakespearean linguistics.

Shakespeare’s stylistic

                    Sorrow,

                       Stays suffused within stanzas

                                   Showcasing 

                                        

                                        Absconding

Stilettoed

Suffragists

Named

Stella,

            Whom stand

            Silhouetted

In the shadows of

Kensuke's Kingdom;

A sculpted space

In Surrey Quays,

                Crafted by

                    Crowned-

Cattle herding Kings

Whom herd their cattle at

The Kentish Drovers

                        In Peckham.

                Meandering

Malnourished

Women

Walk the streets of South East London,

Begging to

Choke on a charcuterie board

                                    At Blue Throat,

Or be shagged by

A ‘royal morsel’

(Shahi tukra) at

                    Shaggi’s Lounge,

Rather than scrounge

Around

For food.

Gastrointestinal perforation;

The castration,

Of pierced

            And

                Perfectly rounded

Poached eggs

                Partially digested

And designed to cause

                A diagnosis

                        Of

                                Peritonitis;

An abdominal cavity

Purposefully         punctured

As though into       the                 porous                         pits

Of          a               cratered

                                                    Kingsmill

Crumpet.



Trypophobia -

Concealed under a coating of Clover

                                Butter,

Surreptitiously

Seeps into

The competing and sleepy conscience

                            Of Thomas Warburton -

Waging war on topographic surnames;

Signatures stilted by small griddled bread crumbs

Scattered across document-adorned breakfast tables

                                                    At Breakfast

                                                                              In Britain

                                                On a work day.



French Martinis

Mistakenly manufactured in Monaco,

Meander upon

                Mules

                                  Through

                                        Bitter-infused

                                                                     Ice-cobbled streets,

                                                                                           To Café Tarifa;

A microcosm of Morroco

On Cowley Road,



Hymns re-harmonised

For May Day morning,

                        Enter a period of mourning

                                                    At noon,

When inebriated students

        Scream in whimsical     woe.

Whiskey liquor

Kept in casks at

The Chequers,

                    Warp with the chequered

                                                    Lacquer

Of chastised chessboards 

Manoeuvred by boozed up

                        And Bourbon - bored

                                                    Hands

Scarred with the ignorant inability

To conquer a white-washed king

                                                    Having a fling

    With a bishop 

                In a castle.

                                        

                   The Frankfurt variation 

Of a French Classical. 

A "jolly hog" 

Watches porn 

Before he proceeds to manoeuvre a pawn

    (1. e4 e6 2. d4 d5 3. Nc3 Nf6 4. Bg5 Be7 5. e5 Ng8 6. Be3 b6) -

A peace offering 

To his quietened queen.

                    A Knack to Alsace;

                            A defence

                        On “foreign domain”.

          Seated on the Ill,

                    Swimming in fentanyl,

France observes

                Kasparov

Swallow his sorrow,

And gently       s  l   i    d      e           into the

                                                            Deep     Blue

                          Depths of depression.

Defeated.

            Forced to resign at thirty.

                    Meanwhile,

A legal loophole

                        In Epinal

                        Survives unsurveyed

By regulators

At Cash Viandes.

Kasparov sacrifices his steed,

                Knighted in Nice

And now on lease

In Philadelphia,

                Where

                    Horse meat is similarly

Traded for cash

By Peter McAndrews,

Whose

    Muse

Strives to defy
    
            Death.

TopSpec

High-fibre mash

For mules,

                Gyrates in a poisoned placenta;

A baby unable to breathe

In a pool of magenta.

The blood

Of a Boulonnais

                            Marbled with white cells,

                                            And the coarse shells

                                                    Of hazelnut,

Somewhat

Becomes

"Everyday Value"

When unwittingly whisked

Within Tesco’s

                    Asparagus 

                                Ham hock and

                                                Hubristically hand-crafted

                                                                                        Hollandaise

                                                                                                            Sauce.

Boxer is

            Boxed

At Findus’ frozen

French-owned Factory

In Luxembourg.

Horses are glued together,

                            Whilst

                    Subsidiary

Horsehide leather,

                                Accrues 

                                Liberty-shopping-leering

                                            Leeches -

                                            Who lament

                The profit loss of

                                Lasagne

                    Contaminated at Comigel,

Whilst posting

The Panel of the Horses

            Whom mark the entrance

                        To Skull Chamber

                            On social media.

The Chauvet-Pont-d'Arc Cave;

                            A grave

                                Garnished with garlic.

                                    By

                                        Henri Chauvet.

Vampiric vines;

Transylvania Wines

Are washed down

Acupunctured arteries.

A butchered brachial

Blends into Intestinal

                    Basil infused

                        Bolognaise -

                                    Braised

                            With the boiled blood

                                            Of a Moscow Mule.

A Beluga Vodka

                    Viscerally-veined  vagabond,

Migrates 2,250 miles

                    From Mariinsk Distillery

To the mule-marched city

                        Of Moscow -

Known for

Ontological insecurity,

                                Masculinity,

                                And gendered hierarchy;

A city embroiled with intoxicated

                                        Brain -

                        

                                                Butchered ballerinas –

Bought and beefed-up

                By Wildberries;

                        Tatyana Kim’s

                    Inedible empire.

Whimsical weight

And beautified bait

                                Shipped from Armenia,

                                                Arrives

                            

                                                                                 Addled with anaemia.

A Forbes fuck-up. 

Five Guys come to Moscow,

To imitate the sounds of Vasily Kalinnikov,

                            And the curated chorus of a Kalashnikov;

                                                            An acapella

                                                                Congruent with

                                                            Classical crescendos

                                                        At Crocus City Hall.

The rook retreats -

                Injecting hope

                                In Five Guys;

                                    A cavalry 

                            

                                                      Whom supports

                                                Carnivorous capitalisation

                                                                            In Colmar.

A knight

Meanders through Maison des Chevaliers de Saint-Jean

On a fearsome night

                        In February.

Check.

Colmar converses with Paris.

Peanut oil penetrates

The philosophy of minds

                            That dine

        At

                Bouillon Chartier.

Check.

A pawn sidesteps

Into the

Beef-rattled,

                Working-class world

                            Of Camille and Frédéric.

Time seems to stand still.

A knight,

From Campbellsville

                                        Kentucky,

Supercharges

Through     1    2    0             years

Of country terrine,

To dictate the terrain

Of unregimented reign.

Check.

Salted pork with lentils 

        ("petit salé aux lentilles"),

                    Cooked on camping stoves in Calais,

Risk arsenic infiltration.

Mutation.

    Time lost in tarnished

                        Translation.

Peach-painted Peruvian lilies

Adorn walls painted in bereaved blue –

                                The residue

Of woefully re-assured relics;

                    Now Roasted,

                        Basted,

                        Bodies.

                                        Rellenong Manok;

                                                                            Filipino stuffed chicken

                                                                                                    Cremated in a community crock

                                        Pot.

Stuffed,

Soulless sojourners,

Reluctantly remain

                    Roaming the Hard-Boiled Wonderland

                                            And the End of the World -

                    Grounded only

                        By the weight

                            Of honey-glazed mutilated

                                    And

                            Marinated

                                Melancholy;

Cold-blooded curations

Infused with garlic crushed crustaceans; 

Quite the muse

For Picasso’s blue period.

                

        Photos of Filipino finesse,

Photosynthesise within an echoless

                Chamber

            Of deboned

                        Death.

                        Nonetheless,

A murderess -

Named Mama Kubo,

            Bathes in bay leaves;

Bouquet garni

And Bulaklak Ng Black Stone,

                                Whilst tasting the tragedy of tangy tartar

                                                                                    Tainted Taramosalatam -

                                                                                                        Served aside a manouri cheese salate

    With balsamic vinaigrette

                And an unbuttered baguette.

Mama Kubo,

Sits saddened by the sight of a threatened

                                Fennel-infused Thalassina

Once buried in the blue beauty

Of an ocean scape -

                    Now butchered

                                        Across Asia.

Dysphagia

            And Odynophagia

Obscure Homer’s

Oesophagus.

Meanwhile,

An oriental

Odyssey commences

Unto brioche buns,

                Crafted by the cooks of

King Arthur

With bleached all-purpose flour

                                    From ALDI.

Tintagel - baked buns -

                                    Baked within the parameters of Pengenna Pasties,

Knead their knees

            Together at       Mrs King’s         Pork Pies

In Borough Market

      On God’s

Day of required rest.

Sunday.

An agony aunt chokes

On chelo kabab koobideh,

Whilst breathing in the sad and sounds

                            Of boogy woogy blues

At Jamboree -

    During the Qajar dynasty.



Burgers of bloody honour –

Oppose the vulgar veneer of Donner’s

Donor 

Turkish kebabs

At Capital

                    House -

Home

To undressed

        Kizarmis patates -

                Cradled in ground cumin,

                   And impassioned paprika -

                    Speckled on the fiery lips of lowly,

Lonely,

Lovers -

    

                Separated by the Aegean Sea.

Washed up love-letters arrive in the Bay of Biscay

                        Sent from Turkey. 

Connections castrated,

                Whilst cooks are 

Freighted from Istanbul

To the cruel

            Overrule

Of Western taste buds -

                            Budded

                                   Throughout time,

With disrespect for Mediterranean

Thyme,

Parsley,

Marjoram,

Oregano,

And sage;

            The properties of protection spells

                                Repurposed

                                        To quell

                                        Migrants;

Men, women, and children

                                   

                              Who sweat foreign flavours,

And hand-craft

                        

                            Familial-fine dining

                                At Chishuru.

The “first black

Female Michelin-starred chef

In the UK.”

Adejoké Bakare 

            ("Noble 

                        Royalty" 

                                    In Yoruba),

Acclaimed for her contribution

    To British culinary culture,

Stands responsible for the "construction of something great"

                        On Titchfield Street.

Finery in Fitzrovia,

Appropriated from Abuja,

                                Caters for connoisseurs,

                            Who cry over a tepid iced-coffee

                                                                                 Purchased at Fleet –

                    Far from the prestige of Fleet

                                                                                            Street.

                                        Fleet Services.

The monopoly of a metropolis –

                            Manufactured by money.

                            "The Landlord's Game";

                                                                A claim

               Made by Darrow –

                            The first board game designer

                        To become a millionaire

                            On Marylebone Street.

Phoenix Palace,

                    Politely positioned

                            For the immortally elite

                                    At number 5 Glentworth Street,

Structurally screams,

    Whilst ‘cancelled’ consumers cry

                                            (Kardashian-style),

                                    Into

                                    Kaleidoscopic crumbs -

                                                            C r  u  m  b   l   i   n     g

                From cross-hatched

                    Chinese

                            Scorched chicken,

                Skewered simply

For London’s self-aggrandizing society

Seeking satiety

                During         F    o    u    r     Seasons | 文興酒家.

Sesame seeds,

Scallions,

And fish sauce,

                                Suffused in Lion & Globe peanut oil,

Ostentatiously boast

                    Being quiet components of immigrated luxury;

                                                Shrimp toast (蝦多士)

                                                                                Emigrated from Hong Kong.


Shrimp Toast

            Swallowed amongst a milieu of

                        South Korean slang

On social media,

Is celebrated in slurps,

                        By @Sarahslurps7

                                    To seduce

                                        Instagram influencers 

High on the sounds of jiaozi juice

                                            At Four Seasons | 文興酒家.

Fusion food

                Flavoured with celeriac essence,

Is crudely

                Crafted into phoney,

                                                        Fanciful

                Pan-fried Foie Gras

                            ("Jecur Ficatum"),

Served alongside

        Dim Sum;

Crispy Prawn Won Ton;

King Scallop;

        Or King Prawn -

From Chengdu,

            Sichuan Province -

                            Home to the UNESCO City

                                Of Gastronomy;

                                                            A city

                                                                Submerged

                                                In Sichuan-roasted         red pepper soup

                        With five-spice edamame relish.

Residents

            Relish

In the hellish

                Heliot Steak House

                        At London’s

                    Multi-millionaire   m   o   a   n   i   n    g

                                                                           Hippodrome

                                                                            Casino.

Argentinian sirloin is served

By Filipino

    (Fumigated of chicken asado from the Philippines)

                                And Latino

                Female

                    Slaves

                            Starved of 'Millionaire Mac & Cheese'

With truffle and poached egg –

                        Birthed by a spatchcocked

                                                                Cooked barn chicken.

Chickens
                            

  Fattened and 

                     Flattened

                                    For faster cooking;

Food filled with the residue of ruptured ribs

                                            And cataract-clouded eyes –

Act as a prelude to

The suffocating pleasure of stone bass with champagne sauce

                                                                    Sautéed with leeks and chives.

    Garnished lives

Mutilated by Gyuto knives,

Cease to thrive.

A sacrifice made 

            For the pleasure of a thriving

                                                    Minority -

                                                        Moskolsavia vodka-sweating 

                                                                                

                                                        Meat eaters

                                                        Filled with litres

                                                        Of leisure;

Of a life made easy –

                                Easy

                                To eat luxury

                                In a perpetual state of over-indulged-accredited apathy.

Lola’s Casino on the lower ground floor laughs,

Whilst Gods on the fourth floor exploit

                                                        Black

                                                        Jack

                                                        Playing Baccarat.

His skin swelters

From a suit of salt -

                            Stitched from supposed-Slavic

                            Sauerkraut

And tumblers of Cremat

                            (Catalan

                               Scorched rum).

Every sip of Kirin

            Summons Kisin

                               (Underworld God A)

To solicit

Emotionally starved

Soho - Starbucks – buying

                                Bureaucrats

                                        To dance with the Maya matrix of death.

Death-kissed debutantes,

Ablaze

With burns

Scream

As their mouths and anuses

Are soldered with permanent sadness.

When the soldered,

Sad 

        Soul complains,

Kisin gives Permission

(Tequila, Singani, elderflower, lychee, and lime)

                                            To douse drowned dialects in cold water –

Causing the money-holding majority 

    

                                                And majestic yet

                                                   

                                                Decrepit

                                                        Minority

To moan somewhat more.

Therefore Kisin burns them,

Until the masses

Turn to politically-parched ashes,

                        Whereby some souls escape to Sucunyum,

Who spits in his hand to set

                                               Hollow,

                                                    Grilled bone marrow 

                            

                                                                                        Souls free;

Souls void of soft,

Gelatinous tissue –

An issue

        For St John

                    On John Street,

Serving roast Welsh x Gloucester, 

                                        Trotter and prune

            With green beans and roast shallot

Jack and John sip carafes of Chardonnay –

                                Flavoured and creamy

With notes of pineapple

From Domaine des Pourthié,

Before devouring scoops of imported mochi.

                                                               In London.

A lavish lifestyle,

Far from the slums of

Chongqing -

                “Quing”;

A reference to the last

Imperial dynasty,

Now home

To homes

Suspended from bamboo poles,

                                                    Littered with the lost soles

                                                                                Of wandering migrants

                With blistered,

                            And fiscally

                                Fractured,

                                              Feet.


A Taste of Chongqing

In British Bloomsbury –

                    A space

Of creative conscience,

United by an abiding belief

In the importance of

Art.

An aesthetic

                                Existence,

That relies on merely

                        Scholarly sublime

                                    Subsistence,

(Not ‘artisan’ braised beef flank

                                    With bamboo shoot

                                            Or Lotus root)

                                                                To survive.

Such is the delusion

And desire for

                            Delicacy,

                    Where the uninspired thrive;

And simply dance to the daily humdrum –

Unable to burn like

                Fabulous yellow roman candles

                                Exploding like spiders across the stars;

Minds un-destroyed by madness,

                            Yet made mad,

By a failure to mitigate the sad

                            Milieu of life.

Abysmal reactions

Refract in the sleepy allure

Of Anhui;

                    An unmooring of manic mortals,

Whom seek anti-depressant pills

And American pharmaceuticals,

                            That ‘innocently’ perpetuate pain,

In once again, 

                        This “Landlord's Game"

Of poetically

                    Perturbed refrain.

A home-anchored-hiatus-of-hope.

Unattainable

Ebullience

Is injected into the

                    Imperialist,

                                Insatiable appetite

That yearns for egg tong sui,

                    At Cantonese-fused food restaurant     Hakkasan

                                            In China Town. 

An aggressive appetite

Of unsophisticated superfluity,

Unable to construe

                    "Elegant sufficiency" -

Inconsistent with dietetic integrity.



An Empire of Pain.

A deletion

And depletion

            Of a      'million dreams' 

                Made by the 'fools who dream' -

Now replaced by

Falsely fortified ecstasy –

                                (The tablet type),

Which sustain mercurial sighs

                                Of melancholic majesty.

Then she wakes,

And recollected memories

Of cold caresses,

                    Crafted in cobalt-coloured calm -

                                        Curated

                                        During dream-construed consumption

                                Of Cornichons,

                                        Croissants,

                                            And coffee,

                                        At The Wee Boulangerie

                                                    In Edinburgh

                                                                    Start                                     to,

Once again,

                                        Echo

Within the etched skin

                            Of a charred,

                                    Cashmere-coated conscience -

                                        Possessed by a Dybbuk

                                    Demanding a "pound of flesh"

From a merchant in Venice

And Ruby Bell;

                Bound by brutality

                        Beckoned by Cynthia Bond

                                                           And the Baileys Women’s Prize.

A broiled wishbone -

                        Fork-shaped,

                                    And draped

Upon the doorways at “Luckenbooth,”

                    Release the tragically tattooed truth,

Upon dog-tooth

                        Trapped youth

                                            Purging on pizza,

                Paccheri

                And passatelli Pasta,

                                           Peanuts,

                                           Purple majesty potato,

                                           Prosecco,

                                           And pumpkin seeds.

The proceeds

                      Of a dictatorial diet plan,

Whereby quiche Lorraine

                        Callously renamed ‘flan’,

Cowardly

                                And carelessly

Allows France to forge

                            A franchisee

                                    In Tennessee -

                                                    Subsequently

Allowing the US to usurp

The "King of Flan" -

                        Who once binged on beige Bran

                                                                        Flakes

        For breakfast

        In New England,

Before he succumbed

To hypnotism

            And "ate a lot of delicious cakes."

Emigrated Etonians,

                        Newly nourished

                                    On ubiquitously

    Sweetener-strengthened food,

Scream “LEMME GET A BACON EGG AND CHEESE”

And “EVEN MORE BLÅBÆRRY PANCAKE(S)”

“But,

            NO MORE DUMPLINGS

                                                        Please”.

Such demands from Non-British Etonians

In New England

            Are

            Brewed

                    At Evil Twin Brewing

                                In DUMBO.



The Brooklyn-brewed obese

                    Unite in collective cardiac arrest.

Bodes ingested

       And Digested

        By the US Department of Agriculture;

A Culture

            Conflated

                        And crushed

Under Minnetonka,

                        Minnesota’s

                        Pitiless pestle and mortar.

Gluttony ground

Into white pepper

                        Is swallowed by Art Pepper

When experiencing the

                            Red Pepper Blues;

A boozy blue bruise.

Such is the effect of a

                                    Field-hollering muse.

Gluttony dines on

Ground black pepper –

                        Sown on the header

                                Of an opulent letter

                                Sealed with blood -

Red sealing wax.

Slaves turned into grains.

Slaves confined by chains

                            And transported on trains

To slaughtering plains,

                            Known as plan-tations;

Planned nations;

            Patrolled by a preordained patriarchy;

Maleficent masters of polemical

Anti-independent agriculture policy

                            In Kansas –

Far from Alsace

And their arugula-adorned

Flammkuchen.



Cargill,

                America’s largest privately

                                            Held company,

Became classified as a culinary catastrophe

                    By Caldwell

                        From Guy's Snacks.

An arrogant criticiser

Of corporate misconduct;

              A construct

                Of collective nouns

                    Transcribed in testosterone,

                                            Inscribed in barbecue-based cologne.

Such is the backdrop to a bewitched world         known

                            To foreordained,

                            Trained,

                                Yet chained

                                    Women.

Political meat –

Existing exclusively as back-seat

                                    Cinema treats,

Are covert critiques

        Of

Cargill beef

Butchered for Wendy;

                A whitewashed woman full on ham

                        In Fulham -

Two flights and a field away

From corporate-controlled factory farms

Adorned with the Coat of Arms

                    Belonging to Tyson’s Corporation.

No salvation

        For female bodies designed

                                        To suffer;

                                        Be silenced;

                                        And sexually exploited.

The reproductive realm

Is thus reduced

                    To             grease                 geezers

Who Rise and Dine

                         In brothels above

Greasy spoons -

Spaces of pitiless

Pithiness;

                Ephemeral establishments;

                Barren concrete erections,

Where

Tyrants

Tether their erections

To torturously touched

                                Tender

                                 Loins

Loosened by lubricant coins -

Cashed in for corporeal currency.

Such is the glamorous life for a Gilt.

Unpaid damages,

Finally paid after the

                        Final breath

                    Of an oblong-headed

                                    Hypnotist,

Fund

            Flan-tasy

                Flan at ORÉE -

Now morphed into a morbidly edgy

                        Entity -

Edging on the fabled

And unlabelled

            Crazed cliffs of

                                Ketamine infused cappuccinos and croissants.

He,

            The King of Flan,

Sits dazed in a high-rise world between

                        Caffeine

                    And

                    Famished bodies devouring

                                        Financier au chocolat –

Financed though the extortionate sales 

    Of immoderate and volatile

Viennese whirls

From Austria

Now acquired at

                        ORÉE -

Also offering Galette des Rois

From France.


A revolutionary and

                Ravenous war -

                            Filled with almond frangipane

                                            And raspberry jam,

                            Kills bodies weighed in kilograms.

Strasbourg’s sucrose

Fight with

            Fructose from Feldkirch

For a space in No Man’s Land –

Away from the hands

Of bakers,

            Buyers,

                    And the desires

                                Of London’s famished bikers.



Warfare is waged

For a window seat -

                With a view of freshly baked

                Normandy

                Apple Tart,

Sliced sadistically into rectangular soldiers

Cooling beside

"Asian Slaw Side

Salad"

From Okinawa -

        Far from the manjuu clam-eating clans


                            Of Kanasawa.



ORÉE’s

                Greek yoghurt pot grimaces

As history unfolds

Amidst a backdrop of grease-coated cake molds.

Bodies

                Bewitched in Borough,

Ebullient on the elixir

Of French finesse,

                    Feculence,

                    And finery,

Saunter between eateries

Etched into the underbelly of Paris and London.

Down and Out

In Clos Maggiore;

                An exquisite muddle of

                                            Italian and French cuisine;

Conflated cultures

Where ‘greatness’ is ‘enclosed’

                                    And exposed

                                        By “toffee-nosed”

                                        Tasters

                                            From Teddington,

Tantalised by transnational tastes

At Trivet.

Pivoting

        Protective tripods

        Stand below

Simmering steel pots of squab pigeon

Adorned with persimmon.

Babies -

Aged twenty days

                    Are transformed

Into MICHELIN-starred magic

By trapeze artists,

Whom craft

Cacophonous colours

That charismatically

Contort     crime

                            Into cuisine.



These artists exploit the 

                                Vastitude of viticulture -

Utilising wines from Georgia, 

                                    Turkey, 

                                    And Armenia.

Such is the Salumi lure

To Cinta Senese Ibrogliona-induced Schizophrenia.

Insentient souls.

Perception perturbed by

Juvenile pigeon meat

                            And Pancetta,

Paired with age-old Vitis vinifera -

Selected by Master Sommelier,

                                        Isa Bal.

                                                    At Trivet.

A myriad of male meat-imbued

                                                     Minds,

Conveniently render bodies absent

Metaphorically

                            Manufactured language,

Puts women in a wok

In Trivet’s “charming country courtyard”.

A “faux-rural treat in the city centre” –

Riddled with Riedel Decanter(s),

From 700-650 B.C

                                    Germany.

Thus trivets

At Trivet,

            Pivot

Beneath politically scorched surfaces,

Heralding the heritage

Of         Hüyük Bağları from Turkey;

            Tskhanuri Sapere from Georgia;

            And the relics of Riesling

    From the contested

Alsace

Region –

A place filled with peaceful vineyards

And relentless refusals to relinquish

Provincial identity.

Alsatian

    Smiles

        Belie

            Solemn steps

Stepped by Schönburger grape pickers,

And sympathetic

        Sommelier

            Weinführers,

            From Herrlisheim.



“Hellcats”

Caught in North Sea sleeted Winds,

Walk in the ‘vast jewellery’ of

                            Jack Kerouac’s

Transgressive tomfoolery;

            R   o   l   l  i  n       g            under the stars,

R  u   n  n   i   n   g      from one falling star to another –

Striving     to         save

                                Ludwigshafen,

                                Würzburg,

                                And Brezels

                                                Dipped in Bavarian sweet mustard.

Military men muster

To win Weisswurst,

            Wurstsalat,

            Weißlacker,

             And Wiesn Hendl

                                    At “Wiesn”;

An epicurean experience.

Esculent ecstasy

Is expressed behind bleary-eyed

                            Bavarians,

                            Vexed vegetarians,

                            And aroused agrarians.

Oktoberfest: "Beer & Blood".

400,000 roast chickens,

And 67,000 roast pork knuckles

            Are knocked-out

                By "knockers” -

Comatosed by captive bolt stun guns.

Others cried

As they strived

To avoid the threat of carbon dioxide.

Filleted and amplified.

                        Aromas

Ascend from crackling

                        Cages

Containing crippled

                    Creatures

Reminiscent of Caliban:

“A savage and deformed slave.”

A Titus Andronicus-type feast begins

With a flurry of unwanted guests;

Tourists who fine

                        Dine on

                                        Chiron crusted,

                                                        Demetrius filled pies

With a side of Curley-oiled fries -

Poisoned with

Sodium Acid Pyrophosphate.

Human bait.



Brutally braised knuckles

                        Buckle

Within a slow pressure cooker.

Gammon hocks cook

Alongside

Bier-battered onion

                            Rings.

Beautifully presented

Bread crumbs

Reside in coffin-themed

Wicker picnic baskets;

Caskets

            Of crushed

                    And canned

                                Pork.

“Luncheon meat”

Eaters

Feature

On social media accounts –

SPAM –MED

By international fans

                Of

                        Hormel Foods Corporation

                            From Austin, Minnesota.

Twenty-two charges of livestock neglect.

Unchecked

        Abuse.

A noose.

Admitted guilt.

A case built.

The state’s first convictions

                        For lacerations

                            And undefined afflictions

                                Exercised against a sow’s vagina;

The violation of a “total Babe”

                                    From Iowa.

660 miles away in Oklahoma,

Investigation are launched into allegations

Of animal cruelty

At a swine farm

                    Pharmaceutically-armed

                    By the Maschhoffs.

A Middle White swine

            Whines

            In woe

At an additional

Maschhoff facility

                    In Nebraska

To “feed a family”

And make “meaningful community”

Investments

During Eid Mubarak.

Haram.

            Meanwhile Spam

Is forcibly served to Muslims

Living in Xinjiang,

                                        2025.

A culinary genocide committed

                            On the eve of

                            The Year of the Pig.

Elsewhere, pigs

Are stuffed with succulent figs

From Geona,

            Madeira,

And formerly,

             Crimea;

A peninsula

Suffering from an animal feed

                    Famine

                    And grain-engulfed

                      Asphyxiation.



Social suffocation

            Soaks into strawberry sorbet

At Starnberger Eiswerkstatt.

An estranged neighbour to

                Münchner Bier

Sips her beer

Without permission

In Munich;

                A stoical city of spires,

                Corrupted by calamitous choirs,

                Usurped by ubiquitous "beer

                        Corpses"

                                Caressed in the coffins of culture

                                            During Oktoberfest!

Meanwhile,

Unbleached

Nordic,

Seeded,

White,

            Sourdough

                            Breads

Battle

Under brutally bright

Lights

    That light

A British-based boulangerie,

Conflated with a patisserie

                    On Borough

                            High Street,

Whereby

French fancies

Fantasise over

Their fondant-fused foundations

At Mr Kipling’s enamoured

                        And efficacious Estate.

Country Cake Slices

Castrate

Calm

        At Crol & Co;

A former

            Forsaken

Betting shop in South Bermondsey,

Nestled in

A Borough of uncertainty.

No-mans-land.

Nomadland.

Non-places where pizza-plighted pilgrims

            Cross London’s

            Battenberg

            Squared,

And structurally

Wiry

Pink-Panther

            Wafer-thin,

                Napoli

                            Salami

                Strewn,

                            Bridge.

A cobbler-cobbled crossing

Commemorates

Casual strolls

Belonging to a German soul

Who survived

                A cooking

                Catastrophe

At Konditor bakery –

                    0.2 miles from Pudding Lane.


Meanwhile,

The vegan-vanilla-filled

                            Danish

                            Girl

Dances

Through these Blank,

Austere

Streets 

Sipping coffee

                With Vermeer’s ‘Mona Lisa of the North’,

Whilst consuming a Curly Whirly Cake

At Konditor.

Outside,

A Girl with a Pearl Earring,

Sips a blueberry matcha latte,

Whilst

        Lamenting

                        Lives –

                            Partially living.

Lives -

Without liberty

At The Clink

                    Prison –

0.5 miles from Lord Clyde’s

Final choice of garden peas

                                        From Pisa,

                                        The Neolithic era,

                                         And war-torn Syria.

Such savoury preservation

Of devastation,

Manifests in

Mutilated mushy peas

                At Bank’s Crosse Keys;

Lord Clyde’s space

                For an abstruse

                            Use

                            Of

                            Mayonnaise

                            Served by a surprisingly sober

Stuttering waiter -

Seduced by

                Stella

                            From Artois.

A brewed body.

A Leuven-crafted

                Cartouche.

A crispy hand-battered body,

Covered with beer-infused batter –

Adopted by Carl Jr

Raises Cane's,

                    Culver's,

                    And Church's

                                    Chickens.

A religiously relished "Real Deal",

Once defined as a Happy Meal

                            By men manufacturing meat,

Supposedly smiles

And piles

                On pain.

Meanwhile disdain

Runs through brain-

                Washed veins

And invisibly blood-stained

                        Blanched burgers

        Fed to

Feather-hair

Conditioned

Children.

Chick-fil-A’s Cathy catastrophe

Threatens

Foreordained breasts,

            Filleted in female-slaughtering facilities,

                By identities

Transformed into lubricated,

Working,

            Male

            Machines -

Manufactured

To supply dimethylpolysiloxane-daubed

Fried apple

Jam

At Dwarf House.

Woman dressed in jam.

Alongside such politically,

Poisoned preserves,

Waitresses serve

Overcooked omelettes,

                Chicken sandwiches,

                And mouldy macaroni ‘n’ cheese;

Primitive recipes designed to appease

Proletariats,

Transformed into insentient meat

By profit accumulating corporations

That fascistically

            Form foundations

                    Across former colonised nations.

Proletariats dismembered

And dissected into a final commodity -

Are designed by Daniel Truett Cathy

Who cares “through food,”

                And about “Communities,”

                            And “our planet.”

                                    Apparently.

(A common motif in the meat-making world).


Yet,

        Cathy poisons his cared for “people”

Through Anti-Foaming Chemicals –

Categorised as safe for consumption

            By his city of

                    Sallow skinned city councillors –

Denounced by the Oracles

                    At The Oracle

                            In Reading;

A sub-heading

Featuring

                Women –

Objectified

By cockeyed,

                    Cock-consuming,

                                And all-encompassing

                                            Carnivores,

Whom rely on phallic-framed

Fallacious arguments

To justify

Eating oestrogen

On     a         Sunday.

Such eroticism extends

                        To male-made markook yeast,

            Made

                In a male-controlled Middle East.

Such is a city named “Am –Man”;

Where men chant “Ameen”

At King Abdullah I Mosque;

                A social structure

                        Steeped in sexual

                                Segregation -

Male-prescribed castration

                In a nation

Crafted by a cacophony of voices,

Where the choices

Of women

        Are heard

            Yet hushed

                    By men during ravenously-rushed meals;

Voices hushed under the

Remorseful residue of halloumi cheese –

Rotting in the estranged hand of Hercules

                                                        Harboured

                                                            At Amman’s Citadel;

A historical site of occupation,

Preserved by Neolithic narration

And Neo-Assyrian

Articulation.

Ancient,

            Virile,

                Dictation.



The putrid smell

            Of sweet sage tea

                In Petra;

A site built on desert- designed dementia,

Percolates through

The breath of camels

Walking on wondrous ground

            Alongside dehydrated dwellers;

                    Sellers

Of Shawarma,

        Hashish

                    And

Shish Kebabs –

Vendibles transported in sweaty city cabs

And under pearl chiffon hijabs.

            “You shall have the fruits of others’ toil”

Said Kakia;

    The goddess

            Of malice,

            Whom callously

                Crafts charts of calories

                                At Papagiorgis Pâtisserie

                                                In Corfu.

"My friends call me Happiness”

                    Said

                Kakia herself;

A vain

And plump portrayal

Of personified betrayal;

            A body built to

                Lead mortals astray.

Angelic transgressions.

            Villainous demeanours

                                D  ecay

Within hidden ill intentions

                Imported through

Lime and coriander-perfumed poppadum Sensations -

                                A callous conflation of

                                                Conflicting nations.

A chip;

A crisp;

Considerations

Carefully calculated

And communicated

Between those on the cusp of culture;

A cryptic and comestible cranny.



Walkers w   a   n   d  e    r                          in Leicester.

Squares are salted and scoffed in Salford.

Sainsbury’s limes are birthed in Brazil.

UK- conflated coriander caresses the kingdoms of

            Cyprus,

            Ethiopia,

            France,

            Germany,

            Italy,

            Morocco,

            Portugal,

            And Spain,

Whilst

Lijjat poppadoms,

        Palatable in Uttar Pradesh,

Are transferred to Portsmouth

                To weep in the mouths

                            Of gatherers

                                At Ganapati

                                On Kingston Road.

Footsteps etched into eateries,

                                            Echo

                                                In an  e c h o

                                                    Chamber of virile

                                                And voracious

                                                Voices,

That     still     sing for spiced-spinach chapattis -

Cooked by

Chinese

Expatriates

From Eluru.

In the             intervening             time,

Rava uttapam

            Adorned with thyme,

Is served aside

        Dim Sum

                    Submerged

                In a simmering saucepan

                        Of sesame oil.

Such sapidity is served at

The Monk's

In Indianapolis;

A metropolis

Made of muddled

            Grammar

And gratuitous clamour –

Calculated within chaotic

                    Kilojoules;

Guangzhou’s jewels;

Green fluorite imbued

And fused

Fusion-food.



A Monk

Dines on

Chinese bhel,

Fiery Sichuan,

Spicy masamla,

And magical maggi rolls -

Infused with India,

                ‘Made in China’,

                            And artificially inseminated with angina.

Such foods are fed to vaginas

By pharmaceutically formed phalluses.

Females are

                Forced to surrender

            To saccharin-saturated vendors

Who render

                            Women

                                                        Wordless.



“Men-U”(s);

Made up of men,

Who phonetically use

You (‘U’),

And collectively use Us,

Are

Etymologically

Small

Simulacrums

            Of crumb

                Caressed

Moustaches

That muse over

Life’s listed

Lifeless legs of lamb,

                Once protected by a mother’s

            Labia minora,

                    And now dressed with a plethora

                                                                        Of parsley flakes,

                                                                               Pink peppercorns,
    
                                                                                And porcini mushroom powder.

Currently,

Clam chowder

Simmers on a French chaudron,

                And within a Creole chodier

                                            Concurrently.

Etymological confused colonies

Argue

Over the origins

Of

Ingredients,

Whereby their transience 

Is transcribed on seasonal menus;

A record of ruthlessly finite

                                            Food -

Featuring a freshly foraged family-recipe

                Of chicken salad with almonds & pineapple

Sold at Jason's

                    Deli -

Delivered

Cross-continentally alongside New Delhi’s

Indian Accent;

A toothsome, terminological ascent

                                            Into continental cardamom-

                                                                            Crafted chaos.



Séances

In Salem

(Tamil Nadu to Massachusetts),

Summon

        Salmon sandwich saturated,

                                                Spectating souls

                                                (Spectral Indians),

To pirouette in complete pandemonium;

A supernatural space

Curated by the illusive lure

Of fasting

(False famishment)

                During saffron harvest season

                                In Jammu & Kashmir,

                                Where portly- sculpted sentient bodies

                                                Caressed in cashmere,

                                                        And seduced by succulent

                                                                                                    Clove-cooked mutton,

Gregariously gravitate towards fellow gluttons

With Cadbury, caramel buttons

            For eyes;

Coraline – characteristics.



Ghee-glossed guises

Pretend to grieve the ghoulish size that is

            Zero.

Corpses

Are buried outside

The stitched sight

Of caviar-consuming,

Cavalier,

Capitalists

            In Candolim;

A census town

Littered with mutilated limbs,

Scolded skins,

Forgotten Africans,

Opioid Kings,

And ruby-stained sins.

A conscious projection by those whom can afford

The price of

                    "Peace

                                Of Mind."

Such are the gratuities of guilt

In those sleeping upon gold-leaf quilts

                    Under an Indian sun,

                            That sets over Goa’s Sambhar- strewn slums.



The Indian Accent

Manifests most majestically,

                Yet unequally,

In both Mayfair

And Mumbai.

An Exclusive

And Elite

Oases,

            Occupied

And owned

    By Manish Mehrotra -

The man who murdered

Conscious chaos crafted

                On Oxford Street and

                                Within Chor Bizarre.

A grossly eccentric,

                        Egocentric,

                                        Enterprise

That haughtily hires non-Indian chefs -

Aiming to redefine the vocabulary of Indian cuisine

On London’s Monopoly board.

Middle class 

                        And middle course

Become conflated

Over three coiled langoustines,

Accompanied by peeled-prawns,

In an attempt to renovate

Time-honoured Kerala fish curry

With the “gold of the Incas” –

                        Quinoa;

                                    A queenly

                            Confounding addition to the diets of those

                            Craving the coastal calm of Goa

                                                                                In Mayfair.

Ambiguity is articulated by Raveesh Kapoor –

The creator

Of asparagus poriyal;

                    A meal

                                Made of opulence

                            And intolerance

For the famished faces that fantasise

                        About eating arbi shaami -

Reminiscent of their ancestry.

An antithetical approach

By a man

Pursuing inclusion

        Through

                Pan-Indian dining -

Designed

        To combine

The best elements of India and England,

Yet deftly

Determined to render

Underprivileged

Asian bodies

And accents

Absent

        At Indian Accent.

An ironical ideology.

Voiceless,

            Indiscernible,

                Indian shapes

                Shift as though shadows

                    Rooted in repressed tradition,

                        Unable to exercise their volition

                            In Mayfair’s

                                Menagerie

                                        Of culture.

Concomitantly,

Closely cuddled

Pomfrets

Fornicate

With French frites,

And their nymphomaniac

Neighbours,

Whom shower

In the sweetness of sucre;

                De patates douces.

Proscribed seduction

Celestially spins

In hypnotising

And seditious

Inscriptions

That summon

The cosmic consumption

Of Delhi’s

                Deli deserts -

Roasted by Roseate

                In Vasant Kunj,

Cooked in the immigrant encampment

Of Calais.



Sojourned souls

                Strive for safety

At Rene's Bakery

                Far from the bestial butchery

Of Don’s,

Claus’,

Kincaid’s,

Turchetti’s,

Cai Wang’s,

And Archer’s,

            Murderous

                    Meat-making

                            Manuscripts.

Muffins made with cranberry and pecans

Are eaten

In

Indiana;

Bangalore;

Beijing;

And Singapore -

Separately swallowed

Alongside Singapore slings -

                    Sipped beneath

                Sunsets

That shed

            Sadness

Upon the

Singapore Strait;

                A space that serves plates

                            Of plaice

                            In a place

                                    Of violent piracy attacks.



Death tax

Is comfortably paid by

Captain Phillips’

                    Captors

            On Phillip Channel;

Outlaws

Whom observe opulent opportunities

In exploiting

Ocean-loitering

Golden Phoenix Thai Hom Mali rice,

Alongside the paltry price

                Of negotiated prisoners;

Persons dehydrated by being

            Arbitrarily

                Detained by bandits

            Who provide peremptory orders 

For survivors to

                    Swallow sardines

                                From Swallow Falls.

Bodies manufactured into meatballs

                        (Political bait),

Are unanimously

Submerged into saucepans of brine -

                    Stripped and re-sculpted by saline,

            Sumac spiced

                                Solitude;

                                Dismembered,

                                                                                Commodified,

                                                                                                                            And set-aside

With mutton

                    Dressed and adorned with dill;

Ljutenica lamb.

Migrants from Bulgaria

Pack meat in The Yards;

A menagerie

Of living limbs

                Remodelled as Sims,

Who eat electromagnetic pollution

                    In a faster eating mod.

Digital bodies -

Small-scale simulacrums

            Of bereaved

                        Beneficiaries,

Bequeathed with the insanity

                    Of ancestors sent across the sea

                            To fill spaces transcending their nascency,

Finally fit

Into a finely working world-machine.

An unconscious interest to accumulate wealth

For the wealthy

                Drives the debauched

To devour

Employees in a pool of sour

                        Cream-scrambled eggs –

Indistinguishable from A.C Leggs’

Premium brown sugar maple sausage.

Sheikh’s drinking McDonald’s banana milkshakes

Sit adjacent to this yellow jade mess

                    Of amalgamated mistreatment.

Cogs cease to rotate

When there is a hiatus on

                        The search for human happiness

                                                        In the ulcerated

                                                                                                                          Medicated

Union Stockyards.

Here,

            Yards of flesh are melted into lard

    And

Male-made machines are fuelled with pain

        And plain,

Triple-boiled rice.

    Half the price

                For Bacillus cereus.

Such is the serious

    And acute

        Austerity

            Alive in Arizona,

                           Alabama,

                            Alaska,

                            Arkansas,

                              And across the United States.

Impassive imparity.

Phony philosophies.

Complete culinary castration

Within a nation

Determined to dictate

And procreate

            Agnate

                    Antagonists

Who murder the rich milieu

Of life -

            Recorded in

                    Nostalgic 'utopian' menus.



And

                Thus,

We enter

An eternal

Dystopian deli

                Serving ractopamine-roasted pork belly -

The bellies of human and pigs alike.

An uncanny likeness

Predicted by Orwell.

        

He did tell

Us.