Every Time Curry or Flavours of a Confessed and Unrepentant Chili Tongued Lover
Curry was the first to
waken my tongue
That appreciation society
president fingers
stained sienna, raw and burnt
Who (looked upon the
boys) with lust measured
the masala
That then felt like new
love
Every time every time and
tasted only (curries
are like old memories, layers of
Once burned with phaal
first then metal-hot
cool pungent flavours, that I
Vindaloo finally the
misadventures plumb
with tongue)
Appear endless and begged
for perhaps
Too much served on a
plate it seems I’m-hungry-love-licked
clean
So easy to fry up onions
and cumin chilies
Fragrant and partake of
the trouble aromatic,
redolent trouble
That will taste spicy and
good every time.
