Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Ode to my Boretti

I love you oven, dear
your fiery-playful flames,
your sudden upward sparkles
slowly cooking all around
those Italian lighting-flames.

There's a more potent smell:
eyes lower.
A mouth hungers.
Lids almost open.
My casserole is aglow.

Based on Tyuchetv's I love your eyes. The work of a genius which I have blatantly bastardized.


Anonymous said...

Mooi gedicht hoor ;)
Volgens mij verdient je oven dat ook wel, als ik zie wat voor moois je d'r mee maakt !
x R

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