Amuse Bouche
(for Chef Rossi)

fuel glorious fuel hot oil and flustered

Oh gourmand! Just mop up those ketyusha
encrusted garnished margins
all blasted and beat-up like whipped ricotta --

yeah, i'll have a plate of artillery shells, with a
zesty bomb-water pottage, a fuzzy naval (base)  
with an umbrella of Arab allies

What do you serve at a beheading, a prisoner swap?
a missile launch?

Oh go on, just terrorize my
palette –
your approval rating is
falling like a cold souflée.

So, just take your explosive liquid
and smear it all over my
sweet sweet sweet peace, heavily decorated and all trooped out / hot
‘n beefy like a gaza strip
sirloin broiled over a burgeoning cease fire
‘cause over here the stakes are high ,
colossal and strategic  
with a garlic-enfused shi'it-
aki mushroom
cloud all jihad
and caramelized  
with a berry strewn
hez bollah crème frêche

and may i suggest
some frothy framboise where boise
will be boise–
enberry like poised
oiseau was o-



let them eat
caked on
Islamist Hamas with side of
pita paté picked a peck of pickled patriots

moistly skewered   and
topped with flaky herb flecked fromage
forged with the chaos of clogged artillery
all bollixed up like clumpy béchamel

What do you serve at a statue toppling? a
guantánamo gala? A border invasion?

and ask, what's in your Lebanese cabinet?

Say, is that a raging skillet or
a pan Islamism?

Oh just suck the savory juice of this unilateral lexicon and
the lingering zing of your saucy
imperialism laced with a tapinade of
terror, a
creamy trouble-scented galette a cornet of
sweet corsette a cornish garnish flourish a florette a fleur de darfur
for tubors or two by
forays. topped with a dizzying oh mama ma ma sha'aryiah
of oily allah la   holy olé mullah aioli  
braised in suni-dried
cabbage, like a ravaged

battalion,   wrapped
in an artillery fire cluster
a po' boy oy polloi envoi of
honey glazed humvee
with a cup of kaffyieh
all embroiled in conflict






II


i'm sorry, did i order this insurgency? This aerial onslaught of premature detonation?

Does that threat level come with a side of terror cells?

May i substitute these liquid explosives
for an escalating attack of piquant parliamentary leeks?

oh this is delicious militia

SOUPÇON!   … of terror



III


So, take that Pyongyang gangbang angrily felanged
dried kimchi beanpaste
broiled beef cabbage fishcake; and hanjoun-
sheik it up baby

honey, you ARE the bomb…

But, to tell you the truth, i am more terrorized by my refrigerator –
There's an ongoing low grade war
between my carbalicious coffee cake
and my low rise hipsters.

y'know sometimes, after that succulent
nosh o' ganâche, there's a
nuclear explosion going on
along my southern borders.

Oh dill sprigs –
anytime is a good time for an invasion!

So, dip your nuclear-tipped
schnapp crackle pop pop fizzled warheads
in my juniper pear jus de jewy
jewy jouissance,

a bissel a fissel
an extended range ballistic missile
with just a hint of


terra gone gone gone, shia be gone so long…




Yo, i'll take my rogue state medium rare
with a fully accountable transfer
seared with a lemon herb crusted
axis of upheaval, effervescently
crushed like a thermobaric cocktail with a
nuclear umbrella –

oh, just   a sec, my despot is boiling over.

So, don't serve me no cut 'n run cumin-tinged phyllo-wrapped tank shell
crema gratinata, frittata pannacotta
duck breast con[flict]         (low in saturated fatwa)
no dirty rotten scallions, shallot
solutions, because

this is just a jalapeño in my as-

paragus. i just don't want no more
kaffir and loathing, punk ass bitch fragrant sweet tease
buffer beefy boeuf burr in my

il fait (fated) froid
gras – nope, just couldn't eat another bite
o' that petit four, three, two, one…
           ( ka bombastic flavor!)

i simply cannot stay the (4) course for that
fudged hegemony high reason treason raison, low rise
maison d'être ( national debt) no frill fret de floret
stir fried black current. a u current ;


So, give it up to
drenched antidotes and icing licks
soixant croissant jews and g[oy]za
yuzu hoisin ouzo azul oozin' muezzin
a bluesy früz frissé
for social change
and to all
those misty
watercooler memories for


The Way We War