Exploding Joy

Being a cancer with a curious disposition I had
to taste the forbidden curry last night, it tasted
wonderful, making sure my little family ate well
I also tried the bread they used for the bunny-
chow and can now pronounce it delicious and
can report my assiduous investigation left me
in pain, isn’t it great how pain is my inevitable
companion

Whether it is a few slipped discs in the neck or
an inflamed arm or allergic reaction to exotic
curried lamb in enticingly fresh bread - the day
before I ate nothing wrong and felt nauseous,
whatever I do, eating or not, ending up with
symptoms - therefore I feel what the heck, I
shall simply eat some more; it is more awful
to be hungry and nauseous

Than insomniac and allergic on a happy full
tummy, hunger is a deadly bore while pain is
more dramatic at least - choosing between
staying hungry without pain and NO energy
as well, feeling lethargic and bored, eating
wonderful things then tossing sleepless on
the floor; I choose the food, exulting in
culinary delight, adoring cooking shows

I love gourmets describing taste sensations in
more poetic terms than used in literary effusions
these days, suffering afterwards a price I willingly
pay for the joy before; eating bland vegetables only
makes life seem meaningless, and it is when life grows
cold without seasoning and spicy delights , cold neutral
grey is more horrible than exploding joy interspersed
with red hot pain…