Dirt and wayward grass in fields
Manure and fodder, pretty much
the same thing. Stampede for a
feed and hay bales dressed in rolls of plastic.
Chewed straw and a quick shot McDraw
from Taupō, slash, T-bone steak and veg
that’s chow come. Know what I mein.
Number-8 wire and etched ownership digits
in the pelt. South Island brunch. Tossed salad and
slippery olives from Spain and toasted bread done
with a touch of chilli, keeps the voice in trim.
Pavarotti songs in the kitchen of delight
pavlova and a candlelit scene. After-eight
company. A round table capable for two or
more. Flaming pudding, pineapple upside-down
and still the wait-person dons starch on black.
Tasty desserts and the freedom is having that prepared
satisfaction on small but potent portions and to
wash it down, liquors for last. Failing that – coffee.
Mikoyan Vekula always thought that someday he would write poetry. His interest in fiction, non-fiction and poetry was instrumental in enrolling in the Whitireia Creative Writing Programme. His favourite foods: anything prepared with love and skill in the culinary arts of food presentation.