(AppreCJ8n, 0.36: Quornchristmas: A Promise)
after Tasty promised me a moreishly softcore, sober and together
and 'ccompanied quornchristmas, one that's not hipsterhamsterscran, spirituallyvedgey
- thohowcoulditbewith Cee? WithCee, serves ta myappetite inspired! Hot celerywedges,
rosemary andraisin purée asimmerin' aploppypoppin' on Ya hob,
with sidehelping of coyote turkeyforone's conspicuousabsence i'm baskin' in,
bacheloryears' tailthumb of g.m.'bolisms saporbly usurped
by barbecucumber soyassausages, tofu donuts, sage in brazen spades,
braised pulse roast pulse marinated in typhoo and clay -
Cee transubstantiates 'em ta venison, medicine, opium, 'ab-urp!'
In whiteappliancedroomof dressings, a mengale ward for mangos
'n' mangowurzels, where She hackswhole bigbubbahubbud gastroshrubs
on the choppingdrawingboard, then steams these moltenmansioned greengiants
thrice diminished: once on said shrubboard, once by broiling brume,
and once when dinner's finished.
No vompliments ta the Chef, Ceejay es muy caliente
as a postprandial cancerstick, tho' She doesn't say, 'hazMe
a postpostprandialcancerstick goldencheese'n'opalonion smelch, kitchenelf!'
So i won't gurk thru my snout next quornchristmas, that's my promise,
coz You're valuable like a loo in a valley ta me, Ceejay,
plusso lapsmokingly nudeytritious,
succufucculushdishous,
th'ardour's rocketfaal unconditionalicious.
Me won't even cool tamale.