Poetry Month Celebration Day 3

I think there is an unwritten rule of America that says every “Greater Metro Region” of every community of more than one hundred thousand, but less than a million, has its own gustatory curiosity. For my home town of Rochester it is the garbage plate. I have my own unwritten rule that  you cannot actually call yourself a Rochesterian until you enjoy one of these from the place they originated: Nick Tahou Hots.  This may or may not be important to you, but it sure is to me. If nothing else, you will never forget the experience of your first plate

Mecca at 320 W Main

You sting my nostrils
with your sweet oniony goodness
and I can feel the grease
on my tongue
as you still hide in your
oh so bad for the environment
Styrofoam home

This is a holy experience
no one can tell me otherwise
as meat
and potato
egg
and pasta
all march down my throat
all at once
this is my Eucharist and I need to repent

So I sing your praises
to all who will hear
reaching out to new converts
and the lost lambs alike
because no one wants to worship alone
and I dread your gift of Divine Right
before I sit upon my throne

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