adventures in dysthymia

Monday, June 27, 2011

Test Tubes

I had test tubes. Chemistry,
science. That was the thing
when I was a kid. I could

have been a chef, you know.
But no, the adults said,
that's not for you. You can

do better. It wasn't what
we were, then, before Emeril
or Wolfgang. Even before

Graham galloped across
television screens.
Oh, we had Julia, of course,

and her impeccably clean
purple towel. Although
the TV was black and white.

You can do better. College.
Maybe for the rest
of my life. Get a post.

No need to ever leave.
And so, I had test tubes.
But I never cooked up

anything I really
wanted in them.

Stephen Brooke ©2011

Not a poem that is about me, exactly, though in a sense all my poems are about me. That's inevitable. Yeah, I enjoyed cooking and did want to be a chef briefly at one point in my childhood but I never did (nor do I now) have any great passion to pursue it as a career. But the ideas here do come from some real life stuff.

Well, well, a real good rain this afternoon here on Peanut Road. It's very welcome. Just keep it up for a few months! Things are pretty uninteresting otherwise around here. Tucky is just part of the family now and doesn't hang onto me all the time like when she first came. She must have had some mistreatment along the way as she does shy away on occasion, especially when eating. Very cautious about chowing down if I'm near her and looks like she's worried I'm going to punish her for it.

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