Bon Appétit | Teen Ink

Bon Appétit

February 1, 2024
By sam-e-wolf17 BRONZE, Monroe, Wisconsin
sam-e-wolf17 BRONZE, Monroe, Wisconsin
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

An Innocent Taste


“Darling

Oh my darling

You must try 

This lovely meatloaf!”


“Money 

Has been tight 

Ever so tight

But this meat!

This meat I got

For very cheap.”


I taste

I try

My father’s 

Mystery meat

To find that

Of course

Of course

It is a most

Delicious treat


But further on

As I gnaw and chew

I am met with

 

Quite an

Interesting

Find


Deep in the heart

Of this lovely

Oh so lovely

Meatloaf 

Did I find


One

 

Small

 


Human

 

 

tooth

 

 

 

For A Woman Needs To Eat


Head empty

No thoughts

But those

Of it


I need the meat

Not just any meat

I need scrumptious

Delectable

Delicious

Human

Flesh


And

Good god

If it’s

The last thing

I ever do

I will

Get my hands on it

 

 

 

Bringing Home The Bacon


I make my way

Carefully

Quietly

To the night market


My father promised me

The man selling that

Lovely

Wonderful meat

Would be here


Many

Many a sketchy 

Suspicious man

Do I pass

Each bartering wares

With darkly cloaked 

Customers


I come to a stall

With the banner

I’m looking for:

A blood-spattered skull

On a neat little plate


As I make

My dark purchase

The dealer

Shockingly 

Informs me

It must be my

First

        Last

                 And only

From him


I scurry away

Frightful

Not only of

What he will do

If I dare

Return

But of what

I will have to do

When I run out

 

 


A Pig Must Be Slaughtered


“It’s Mine. 

You can’t have it

Give.

          It. 

                Back.”

Jumbling 

Fumbling behind me

Finding the knife

Pressing it flat

To my back


Inching

Closer

Closer

Closer

His words

Don’t penetrate

My thoughts


My final package

I need it

My wonderful

Glorious meat

He wants it

He’s stealing it

It’s mine

 

How

Could my own father

Betray me

Like this


I am finally 

Close enough

One swift motion

The knife

Plunges

Into his stomach


Life drains

From his eyes


I suppose

No longer

Am I almost out

Of meat

 

 

 

My Treasury Is To Be Devoured


I am much

Like a king

Seated at the head

Of a long table

Filled with decorations 

And foods


So many seats 

Along my table

Yet I sit alone

So many dishes

Lay on my table

Yet I eat just one


I rip red, juicy

Rare meat

Right off 

Of the bone

Taking the time 

To eat around

Undesirable bits

          Organs

          Teeth

          Fingernails


I dare not

Nibble at the feet

Afterall

A peasant like this

Could not have afforded

A novelty like shoes

 

 


What Impolite Dinner Guests


Flashes

So many flashes

          Blue

                    Red

          Blue

                    Red

Spotlights

Shining through my windows


I did not

Most definitely not

Invite them

To my dinner party


I didn’t make nearly

Not nearly 

Enough dessert

That must be why 

They are shouting


As they knock

                    Knock 

                              Knock

I set my table

For all these new guests

 

As they pound

                    Pound

                              Pound

On my door 

I saw open the skull

I drizzle

Sweet chocolate sauce

On to the exposed membrane


As they break

                    Break

                              Break

Their way in

I scoop out helpings

For my new guests

As I am pulled

                    Pulled

                              Pulled 

From my home

All I can think is

They didn't

                    Even 

                              Taste

My lovely

                    Delicious

                                        Dessert

 

 

 

It Consumes Me


It consumes me

My every

          Waking

                    Thought

Even as I sleep

I see it

I want it


I yearn for

          The taste

          The texture

          The feeling

Of blood

Running down my chin


When I am 

Finally

Free

From this cold

Cramped cell


I will go

On the world’s best

Shopping spree


I’ll kidnap

                    Kill

Until this 

Never ending hunger is

Finally

Satiated

 

 


Bon Appétit


They say 

I’ll be dead soon

They ask me

What I’d like

To eat

For the first time

Since I came here

 

          They are not 

          Very good hosts


When I ask

For my meat

They refuse


I will not eat

Anything

Not a thing

But my meat


I scream

I beg for it

All the way 

to the chair


They strap me in

Pulling as tight

As the hard leather

Will allow


I yank back

But to 

No 

Avail 


As the volts

Course

Through my veins

I can smell myself

Cook


I wonder how

Delicious

I’d taste


The author's comments:

From the moment I discovered stories in verse, I knew I wanted to write at least one of my own. Where did cannibalism come in? During a writing class, we started each day with a prompt to get warmed up. One day, the prompt was to describe a disgusting feast. Sound familiar? The first poem I wrote (that ultimately inspired the rest of this piece) was My Treasury Is To Be Devoured. I found it quite fun to gross out my classmates when I shared aloud. I hope you enjoy reading this piece as much as I did writing it!


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