Poem 13: To the messy eaters, letter M
Munching at the dining room table
Crumbs falling merrily from their open mouth chewing
Hands too greasy, so they use the back of their arms to wipe residue off their lips
Enjoying the meal exactly how it’s meant to be enjoyed
Miraculously and messily.
I appreciate the way the stains on their shirts don’t bother them.
How they don’t stress about the way they look as they chew.
Making moves to build a second plate.
More the merrier they say.
Food: We have learned to lose the enjoyance it brings.
It moves people together.
Bonding us over mealtime.
In a day in age where diets, restriction and precision make up most of our minds.
We fail to recognize the joy that food carries.
Meaningful moments such as a lunch date.
Not being able to pick one so you share two meals with someone you just met.
Since when are their dating rules?
You may look pretty eating it, but a melancholy salad won’t fill you up.
Order the saucy pasta. Order the juicy steak.
My heart goes out to those.
Who may no longer have the ability to fully enjoy what they eat.
Too aware of what they look like, or believing that food merrily as fuel.
I too sometimes fall victim to being a mess avoider.
Overusing napkins and underusing enjoyment.
