[Erik Olson]

Don't dance! Don't even step one foot in
that perfumed kitchen of my Wiccan
x-wife; better to be a chicken
fried well outside than in her kitchen,
roasted for non-participation
than Bacchus's fickle rotation.
Prelude to pandemonium,
she'll flick you suitor like a crumb.
Don't dance! For if you tap one toe
in, like Prometheus you'll know
Waltzing past warnings marries woe.

.

[Erik Olson]

Don't Dance in his Kitchen

His kitchen yields one rule of thumb:
stay out, by God! Nor dance, that's dumb.
A chef there lies whose dance reverses,
repays your pains with top-shelf curses;
you try again, but lips curl worse;
with him one step off-beat spills wars.
You lost the hymn beat of the Chicken
Souffle past measure, putting fish in;
Like Beelzebub fudged out from Heaven,
You spoiled the high strung gastro-vision
of Gordon Ramsay. O what thunder!
assail a dopey kid to blunder.
Out, out of sync, against the flow,
most un-feng shui each way you go;
red Ramsey steams where sharp knives hang; o
stay out! It takes two chefs to tango.



.

[Roger Slater]

Erik: maximum 16 lines.

[Erik Olson]

Thanks Roger; I had forgotten.

[Jerome Betts]

Withdrawn for recycling

[Jayne Osborn]

Nice one, Jerome!

I'd be surprised if you haven't got a winner there.

[Erik Olson]

Accidental Post. Sorry