I am the chef, and I cook the food.
I am the chef, who recently debuted.
The connoisseur, the child
The fisher, the butcher
They are the people who help me out
The future, however, I have my doubts
Early in the morning, the door bell rings
The butcher walks in, with another delivery
Pork, beef, chicken, lamb
Fresh meat no longer in captivity.
"So how about it", he booms to me
Because nothing in the world comes for free
Under the bar, I pull out a magazine of the latest chinaware to pass through the town.
As the clock strikes noon, the door bell dings
The child walks in, with another story
Ghosts, birds, heroes, smells
Details from his endless inventory
"So how about it", he sings to me
Because nothing in the world comes for free
Under the bar, I pull out a puppet, and spend the down time telling my own stories.
As the sun slinks away, the door bell chimes
The fisher walks in with the catch of the day
Salmon, yellowtail, crab, shrimp
And an outstretched hand, waiting for pay
"So how about it", he muses to me
Because nothing in the world comes for free
Under the bar, I pull out $152 dollars in cash
As the moon reaches high, the door bell rattles
The connoisseur walks in with an assortment of change
Quarters, bennies, nickles, Lincolns
His wage comes in a strange range
"So how about it", he asks me
Because nothing in the world comes for free
Under the bar, I pull out my latest recipe
As my eyes begin to fall, the door bell sings
I walk out with what I needed
My mind, my wallet, my observations
I say, this day, I have succeeded
Early in the morning, the door bell rings
The butcher walks in, with another delivery
Pork, beef, chicken, lamb
Fresh meat no longer in captivity.
He says nothing today
The magazine doesn't have room for chinaware
I'll have to return the generosity
Of this, I am well aware
As the clock strikes noon, the door bell dings
The child walks in, with another story
Ghosts, birds, heroes, smells
Details from his endless inventory
After he's satisfied, off he goes
Today's not the day to tell a story
I'll have to return the generosity
I'll think up a tale of hero's glory
As the sun slinks away, the door bell chimes
The fisher walks in with the catch of the day
Salmon, yellowtail, crab, shrimp
And an outstretched hand, waiting for pay
"So how about it", he lays uncomfortably to me
Because nothing in the world comes for free
Under the bar, I pull out $152 dollars in cash
As my eyes begin to fall, the door bell sings
I walk out with what I needed
And there on the ground, a familiar sight
A magazine with chinaware unimpeded
The way you write always makes me feel like I'm reading a fairytale. I know I've said it before, but your voice really comes through in your writing. Well done :)
ReplyDeleteVery creative and I love your use of repetition here.
ReplyDelete