What’s your favorite dish? What’s something you’d like to try? What’s one thing you’ll never eat, no matter what? We’re writing food today! Can you smell what I’m cooking? Are you hungry?

If you want to impress me, write your poem in the form of an EPULAERYU. It’s an actual poetic form specifically about delicious food.

Here’s a link to the INFORM POET exploration of the EPULAERYU.

31 thoughts on “JULY COVID-19 P.A.D. – DAY 10 WHAT’S ON THE MENU?

  1. A BIG (MIS)STEAK!, by Walter J Wojtanik

    Oh, how I love me some steak!
    Smothered in mushrooms
    and onions. Baked potato
    would add to the meal,
    the real deal.
    Can’t go wrong.

    * an EPULAERYU

  2. Mom’s heirloom applesauce cake
    crowns her cut glass plate
    dark brown sugar, cinnamon
    naked from the pan
    raisins peeking out
    warm spicy

  3. C


    Yes, it’s true it is not Greek,
    my favorite meal,
    the one of which I now speak,
    the one that I feel’s
    a sandwich to please,
    grilled or not.

  4. I know they aren’t to everyone’s taste, but I do love them.

    Raw oysters on the half shell.
    Picture seashore days,
    the smell and taste of the sea.
    Briny, buttery,
    smooth, extravagant.
    Try them once —

  5. An Epulaeryu: It’s a Food Poem

    slightly underdone duck breast
    baby vegetables
    polenta with cilantro
    bring me a

  6. Pingback: An Epulaeryu Poem – Plumb-Lines

  7. Pingback: It’s No Eggplant Parm | purplepeninportland

  8. Pingback: It’s No Eggplant Parm | purplepeninportland

  9. It’s No Eggplant Parm

    If it’s hidden, will I know
    there’s okra in there?
    Yes, if I taste something slick.
    ‘least with lima beans
    they’re out in the open–
    sickly pale

  10. Salad, steak, chicken, baked potato,
    macaroni and cheese,
    Hamburger, pizza, spaghetti,
    green beans,
    Alone, just ordinary fare,
    but topped with crispy bacon,
    everything becomes
    compliment-worthy cuisine!

  11. .

    At the Beach

    Beautiful, clean snow white sand
    Emerald green waves lapping steadily
    Always failing to come ashore but
    Still attempting at a sturdy rate

    Children building sandcastles
    Fortresses and something-or-others
    While parents watch intently
    Admiring their creativity

    The sun pours down light and heat
    Slowly baking sun worshippers
    Tourists are easy to pick out
    In the morning they will be lobsters

    I’m there strictly for family support
    To carry chairs and towels and such
    My feet don’t do well in sand
    And my shirt never comes off

    My beach body left me years ago
    Age and food made for droopy droops
    And surgery has left me all scarred up
    Scars that children don’t need to see

    But I endure because those I love love
    Snow white sand and emerald waves
    And I get Brownie points for later on
    When I get to choose where we all eat

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