No Show

Cooking challenges
are not for me –
inviting self-assured guests
to partake in my over-sized
oven-ready breasts –
show time!

Why should I
care about competition;
agree to act fancy,
ground myself down
with expectations?
I’d be afraid

my dependents
would run out from behind
my wings and topple
the repast before
it’s served up, along with
my reputation.

I have ample
bosom, but that doesn’t
mean I like to cook –
reservations are my specialty –
especially when fare tasters
speak Foodie

What kind of language
is that? Really?
I accept that I somehow
missed the gourmet gene,
that my home is not a
culniary castle;

would love to belong
to the fit and healthy
but renewal for me
is a place to lie my head,
having fun
horizontal.

(Image found on:  gameofdiapers.com)