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Literature Text
Saturday night tastes like...
My Momma's home cooking
Her fresh, juicy meats and
Her sometimes failed attempts at cookies
But we eat them anyways, just for her.
Saturday night tastes like...
My bowl of ramen noodles, chicked flavored,
At my Daddy's old rundown trailer
With nothing but coke to drink and
Movies for entertainment,
Saturday night tastes like...
My sister's baking, sweet and
Soft, melt-in-your-mouth
Good.
Sunday morning tastes like...
My Granny's famous mashed potatoes
Freshly made after a preacher's weekly blessing
And only church and football are discussed
Here in the house of my family.
My Momma's home cooking
Her fresh, juicy meats and
Her sometimes failed attempts at cookies
But we eat them anyways, just for her.
Saturday night tastes like...
My bowl of ramen noodles, chicked flavored,
At my Daddy's old rundown trailer
With nothing but coke to drink and
Movies for entertainment,
Saturday night tastes like...
My sister's baking, sweet and
Soft, melt-in-your-mouth
Good.
Sunday morning tastes like...
My Granny's famous mashed potatoes
Freshly made after a preacher's weekly blessing
And only church and football are discussed
Here in the house of my family.
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I wrote this at a poetry seminar workshop. We couldn't stop writing for 5 minutes, not even to think or erase (only scratch out). While we wrote, we had to incorporate to words and phrases the instructor called out into our poems. This is what I got, and I think it's one of my best pieces
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