Ninety Seven

When you say 'screw you', make all your troubles light, there's so much more to do, do all chefs die intestate, however much they lie, throwing venom at the plates, come to scream at menus, their eyes a terrible high, a frightened kitchen crew, fire burns around this place, don't tell me how he cries, anchors bind his feet, even God is not immune, debts gone from his eyes, no longer is he duped, wouldn't it be great, to feel his love inside, instead of all this rage, your house beyond the dunes, lying near the tide, will death bring you truth, or hang you out to dry?