ode to guy fieri & my dad
Guy Fieri tells the viewer
Flavortown is where
the gravitational force of bacon
warps the laws of space & time,
that they are perfect like
the bruised peaches at
the back of the produce stand,
& they believe him,
because the television leaks
neon pink light onto their carpets,
like Coke cans with knives puncturing
the bottoms, funneling seasoning
into eager hands
to salt the evening just right,
& when I come into the living room
after Dad turns on
Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives,
that is me saying I love you,
because I don’t know
any other way how,
& you could put that on a flip flop
& it’d still be beautiful.
Flavortown is where
the gravitational force of bacon
warps the laws of space & time,
that they are perfect like
the bruised peaches at
the back of the produce stand,
& they believe him,
because the television leaks
neon pink light onto their carpets,
like Coke cans with knives puncturing
the bottoms, funneling seasoning
into eager hands
to salt the evening just right,
& when I come into the living room
after Dad turns on
Diners, Drive-Ins, & Dives,
that is me saying I love you,
because I don’t know
any other way how,
& you could put that on a flip flop
& it’d still be beautiful.
Matt Mitchell is an intersex poet, prince of synth, gluten-free dumpster fire, former Best Hair winner in high school, and Wham! fan from Ohio.