havocados
crushed into
guacamuerte
happens
all the thyme
split the skin
carve
through the flesh
to find the solid pit
of despair within
fill the mocaljete
smash it down
against the rough stone
until all that remains
is paste
blame the onion
on the tears
the burning rage
on the jalapeno
and this sense
of uncompromising
disconnect
on the world
itself
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
My 9 year old after reading this said to me “Mummy, you should write a poem about food” 🤔
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Heck yeah
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Lol
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Mike. Stop. I’m already hungry enough as it is…. you’re killin me.
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I take that back.
Don’t stop.
Like.
Ever.
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Deal
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👍
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Yes! You just nailed Monday… and other stuff too I suppose lol. Dig👍
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excellent. i was just playing with words. glad it worked.
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😊
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