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Rated: E · Poetry · Food/Cooking · #2089034
Fun times with my friend, the barbecue.
T-bone

Oh my it is a rather large t-bone, you look so juicy, and succulent.
It's something that I could not help, but it was making my belly pitch a tent.
there was no way for me to stop thinking about that moment.
On the edge of my chair, when the deliciousness would be sent.

I won't swallow until the last drop of the flavor is spent.
The flames are bristling, your becoming quite a saucy fellow.
Maybe that's why you got evicted from the freezer, you didn't pay your rent?
The fat that surrounds you is getting nice and crisp, and no longer yellow.

Just one more time, I will smother you with sauce as thick as jello.
Putting you on the end of my fork, then you will greet my lips with a smile.
As I will whisper to you farewell, my taste bud's say hello.
Your goodness rides right down my throat, cooked up Wolfbane style.

Then, when I'm all done eating, I go back out beside the spit and rhyme.
Thanks to you the t-bone, for helping me to capture the essence of BBQ time.
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