Ode to Steak

There comes a point in time in every writer's life when they're just not feeling it. And when that happens, it's up to the writer to fall back, to regroup, to get in touch with what really moves them. For me, that's steak. Sweet, delicious comfort and luxury all in one. There's nothing better for the soul, really, than to find what Rogers your Hammerstein and go with it. Too many people forget that, and that's a damn shame.


Ode to Steak

I ate a steak today. It was delicious.
Lusty lines of fat embraced the meat;
Age had made it tender, ripe, ambitious,
Ready - no, salacious for the heat.
A dash of salt, a coat of pepper ground,
and oh! What sacred scent I did endure.
Scent led to taste, and what a taste profound -
Say what you will, that moment's joy was pure.

So let you vaunted versists squawk your lines,
Your love and loss, your mountain's majesties.
Love fades to bore, loss whimpers to a whine,
and mountains never mattered much to me.
Thrust your sweaty loins until you ache,
I'll keep my simple pleasures. Give me steak.