Pot Stickers

Pot Stickers

Ten tons of warm damp dough lied on the line
Waiting for a sexual intercourse
With the soft wet and fatty meat of boars
As if it is still the pink valentine,
I, the matchmaker, in this job of mine,
felt the billions in line with the hand sores
“I’m on strike!” As my numbly sore brain roared
And spoke of better work in a coal mine.

The cold knife stabbed the wet fatty meat
into the hot hugs of hollowed damp dough
Boiling water steamed the final product
Then teeth bit into the soft and warm dough
And tore through the core of hot chewy meat
Thumbs were up, but the long process still sucked.

Reviews

[brainelation]

that poem was epic.
it seemed like it captured the ennui of the millions of americans working on menial labor.
i also really liked the way you rhymed some of the words, but not all of them. it seems simultaneously sloppy and pretty, and it fits well with the subject matter. good s**t.

[Butterflymom]

This was very creative, and definitely original, fresh, and fun. I really enjoyed reading it, and I must admit I have to read it more than once. Very nicely done!