It Still Resists

It’s trying to resist,
The older the better they say.
I keep stretching,
Until it finally keeps its circular shape

The younger ones, they’re too resilient
No matter how long you work them,
They never keep their shape.

The cold plastic rests against the palm of my hand
As I stir the thick red liquid
Then pour it on my newly stretched canvas
Spreading it in circular motions

It’s a work of art.

All the toppings, handmade.
Requiring hours of grueling work.
First, I ground up the meat
Then stuffed it into its casing
Seared it off
Then chopped it up into nice little pieces,
again

Shredded up some added flavor to glue it all together
My family and friends will just love it
It’s taken me months to find the perfect one

Finally, my work of art is complete
Stretched to perfection
Smothered in a layer of red,
Topped with juicy chunks of refined meat
With gooey shreds holding it all together

The aroma of my creation fills the air
As the sound of knocking comes from my door

***

Nothing went as planned
They thought my art was horrendous
So revolting they refused even a bite

All of my hard work was met with screaming
With Hate

I showed them everything I did
To create this perfect meal
And they hated it
They hated me.

Well, they simply didn’t know how to appreciate my art
It won’t take months to create my next masterpiece
Now that I’ve gathered plenty of supplies

Hopefully now they will see my art as beautiful

Since they’ll be a part of it

-K.M.