Taste (an acrostic poem)

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Those stripes will be yummy with a dash of polka dots

Adding the mismatched pink and green fluorescent socks to further spice it up

So put together a feast for your soul and embrace who you are

There might be people who want to throw up a bit when they see you walk down the street but…

Everyone has a different fashion palate when it comes to style.

Crispy (an acrostic poem)

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Crunching on this piece of Nashville hot fried chicken

Relishing in the heat and texture dancing in my mouth

It is a spiritual experience to be sure

So much noise and so much spice

Perhaps I should have gotten that milkshake after all

Yeppers, as my mouth begins to erupt, yes, I should have

Salt (an acrostic poem)

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Spice up your bland world

Allow each day to be tasty

Leave yourself sated with what you experienced

Then dream about the flavor of tomorrow

Spice (an acrostic poem)

 

She turned up the heat in the chili, drop by evil-looking drop of ghost pepper essence

Perspiration beaded along his forehead and dribbled into his eyes at first bite

It gave his body an illusion of cooling, but the heat just kept climbing

Couldn’t believe there was a time before the all-consuming fiery pain

Eventually, his mouth recovered, but he knew round two was coming

 

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Mild (an acrostic poem)

Maybe variety is the spice of life, but

Isaac worried about getting burned

Loving to do the same thing over and over

Delicious blandness that left him fulfilled

 

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Crispy (an acrostic poem)

Crunching greasy fried chicken

Reveling in the horribleness of it all

It was like the sound was a delectable spice

Satisfying something deep and primal

Pushing mere sustenance into something heaven sent

Yet also devil spawn for the grease stains on my shirt

 

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The Spice of Life (a 100 word story)

When Glenda put the curse on Bill he just laughed it off.  He was doomed to not be able to taste salt, ever.  He could put the whole shaker right on his tongue, but nothing would happen.

Bill thought this was the lamest curse, but over time he found himself eating less and less.  He didn’t bother going out to dinner anymore.  There was never any joy in food.  Other tastes faded into monotony.

His life devolved into the blandness he experienced eating.  He went to ask forgiveness, but Glenda passed away weeks before.

All he could say was, “Blah.”

 

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