FOOD PORN
Delirious comfort in culinary form
You.
The muffin to my pan,
The beans to my can.
Suck hard, get all the corn.
Juice dripping from your mouth is my porn.
I don't need no flatulence, no.
Just let me smack that booty with a spatula, yo.
About the Creator
Brent Tharp
I edit STEM books. I like writing, cats, and wine, though not necessarily in that order.
I was raised by wolves in a small forest somewhere in Middle America.
Why don't ketchup bottles squirt correctly? All or nothing seems grifty to me.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Keep reading
More stories from Brent Tharp and writers in Poets and other communities.
Hall of mirrors
Things used to matter, before all the noise. And at that time when things still had meaning, there had been dreaming too, when dreams still mattered. And the brightest dream from those times was full of mountains and seas and smiles and the types of passion that absorbs you the way a dog is absorbed by witnessing something for the first time: with absolute presence, and awe.
By Giulia Viti2 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Um.... odd