This is a ritual poem for creative writing. I wrote it with a craving in mind. And Christmas, a little. Oh, and maybe a little bit of Tool.
Paying the Toll
Annual wind down.
Debts to pay.
Grab that stupid green bag and get in the car, bitch.
We’re going shopping.
Do we still have vanilla left?
Shit, forgot if we have the flour.
Better get the brown sugar, too.
Don’t be a wuss.
Get the big one.
Yeahhhh, that’s it.
Oh hey, we did have enough sugar.
...Shit, I should have picked up baking soda.
Ah well, powder works too,
Get out the tools.
Preheat 375º F.
Mix in 2 1/2 cups flour
With a tsp salt and soda–
And sneak in some cinnamon.
Mix it well in a large bowl.
You should invest in a sifter.
Really, how the hell
Can you tell
Is it mixed right?
Fuck it, that looks good.
In a bigger bowl,
Mix two sticks butter
God damn it.
I hate butter.
Throw it in a small bowl.
Son of a bitch, it’s all drippy,
Oily, and gross.
Back in the big bowl.
Add 3/4 cup granulated sugar
And 3/4 the other sugar.
Oh, teaspoon of vanilla.
Mix it all together until smooth.
Shit, why can’t I find the KitchenAid?
Who looses a KitchenAid mixer?
It’s like loosing a baby.
Fuck it, we’ll improvise.
...Yeah, that’ll work.
SHIT, WHY IS THE BUTTER STILL THIS HARD?!
Note to self:
If you ever see that guy from GQ
Who said that cooking can be “manly”
But baking is always “dainty”
Hit him with your still frozen butter.
How’s that for fuckin’ dainty?
Add in two large eggs gradually.
Now that you wasted 30 minutes
And your arm feels oddly beefy,
Mix in the dry ingredients.
You just dumped
The whole thing in
You stupid bitch.
MIX, STUPID, MIX!
Oh yeah, you gotta mix in the chips and nuts, now.
Shit ain’t ever gonna end.
But hey, check out that right biceps you’re building.
Grease up your poor little cookie sheet,
And drop rounded tablespoons of dough on it.
Recipe yields 60.
Or more, ‘cause recipes lie.
Yeah, have fun with your one sheet.
Just wrap the rest and keep baking as you go.
It’s this or Amazon. Keep going.
Bake for five minutes first.
No, just listen.
Take it out for a little to cool.
Then shove it in for another five.
Yeah, that’s right.
I ain’t baking no hard ass cookies.
Oh, and while you’re waiting, soak your fucking utensils.
Shit’s annoying to clean up.
Take out your cookies and let them cool.
Or dump them in open Tupperwear, yeah.
That works too.
Keep doing this until you’re out of the dough.
Oh hey, check that out.
And with a sheet that fits a dozen.
Nestle, you lying bastards.
Wrap it all up in your nice pastry boxes.
Tag them for your friends.
Yeah, just enough for all of them.
Swear to never fucking do this shit again.
I want a cookie.