Granny put my hands in the batter.
“Best to mix biscuits with your fingers.”
But the squishy bread innards
felt filthy,
damp as drawers
wrung out and pinned
on rigid backyard clotheslines.
“Nothing as good as sunshine,”
Granny said. But I wasn’t interested in daylight discussions.
I coveted cavernous places,
deep warm wells,
the arch of drumstick,
quick smack of cymbal.
To swallow the secrets
scribbled on bathroom stalls,
plunge into the sort of fornication
that only rose from a flush,
only bent over after dark.
© khartless 2022, All Rights Reserved
Inspired by MAN CARD by Mick Tomlinson
I promised my father
I’d grow up and learn
some of the things that men do.
For example,
how to throw garage tools
across the garage
when the car won’t fucking start.
Or, how to impress mom
by ruining dinner
with minimal kitchen skills.
But in the end
I became a man and all I have
to show for it
is the ability to parallel park
a poem
between two tight tits
and be proud of it.
COPYRIGHT 2022 Mick Tomlinson
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
Man Card is excellent and your response rose to the same level. Blew that rosy picture of granny and granddaughter to smithereens. 😂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😂 won’t be the same next time my hands are in a bowl of batter. Thank you, and I’ll pass on your like to the poet, as well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
good 👍👍
LikeLiked by 1 person
😎 Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Neat twist on a classic poem! Beautifully vivid descriptions here, K ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, Tom. This poet may not claim to be a classic; but I’m sure he’ll be canonized in his time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I loved your response to Man Card. The first poem was very good, too.
And that picture of the scones (or whatever sweets they are) is gorgeous.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. Homemade biscuits wasn’t my specialty, but my grandmother made them often.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m confused.. Is the top poem by you and the bottom one by him?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, indeed. His poem was a contest prompt, and its below the line. Top poem (two stanzas) is mine. 🦋
LikeLike
I really liked both… just in my usual state of confusion…Well done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 🦋
LikeLike
I love your poem. It reminds me of my mom teaching me how to make pastry, by feel.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, I still dig in to some batters. My grandmother always kneaded by hand. Thank you, VJ.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Really enjoyed both your response to the poem by Mick Tomlinson, there was a nice polarity between them 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 🦋
LikeLiked by 1 person