Put it on the grill,
until it's well done.
I want it so big,
so I can only eat one.
Give me a sixteen ounce...
No, a twenty two ounce strip.
I'll even take a porter house,
right pass my lips.
As I begin,
to grind it with my teeth,
some may have to remind me,
and say, "Breathe Dion, Breath".
I never eat it with sauce.
It kills the whole flavor.
I like my steak by itself,
so every bite,
can be savored.
I have been eating,
for only five minutes.
As I look at my plate,
I ask myself,
"Where did it go?
Is it finished".
-
Author:
Dion P. Crown (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 25th, 2020 23:01
- Comment from author about the poem: I do not know why I decided to write about steak. Still, I do enjoy a good New York Strip. I always eat it well done. Personally, I think that is the right way to eat a steak. I think grilling a steak is a true skill. I probably wrote this piece because my birthday is on May twenty sixth, and I usually go to a steakhouse for my birthday. Persistence is key
- Category: Humor
- Views: 78
Offline)
Comments1
I searched for humorous poems and this one popped up! I am pleasantly surprised at how much I relate to this. I am a foodie myself. So funny. I loved it.
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