Home Poesy Captain Cook.

Captain Cook.

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It’s only been a fortnight
since they were bought.
Now,
it’s the sight –
of carrots that look like
an expired, flaccid penis,
tomatoes that feel like
an emptied ballsack –
that tells me
what I might.
No matter how much
and deep I slice,
the onions are nothing more
than tasteless rings.

Disgruntled,
I pace back and forth,
past the stove
and onto the balcony
where, alone, with my thoughts,
regularly stand to conjure up plans.
There will be only one way
to deal with these groceries.
All I’ll need
is a set of new,
constantly hungry pals
who’ll help me put the Cook
back in Captain Cook,
or the King
in Kitchen King.

………………………………………
Alexander Twinokwesiga
Ongata  Rongai, Kajiado.
Saturday, January 25, 2014.

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