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Chicken Tonight

A simple meal isn't always so simple
I called ahead today,
Rather than just show up,
And she said she was making
Chicken tonight.

She works as hard
As I do,
And we have nothing
To bind us,
No ring, no vows,
No obligations.
She doesn't need to make it, but...

But chicken,
The way she does it,
Is a project.
No shortcuts,
No cheating,
Just good, old fashioned
Chicken.

Are there special words
Of love
That we say when we are fed
Chicken?

Is it like an anniversary,
Twenty five gets you silver,
Fifty gets you gold?
What is the right thing
To say or give
For chicken?

Some prefer steak,
Or a nice casserole,
Or even pasta,
But chicken -
Did I mention it is fried chicken -
Surely has a special place
In this lover's heart.

Tonight she is making
Chicken,
And tonight I will make love to her
And imagine her skin to be
Scented with a secret blend
Of eleven herbs and spices.

I will suck upon her nipples,
As if sucking the meat off a wing,
I will lick her labia,
As if savoring the moist meat of a thigh,
And I will hold her close to me,
As though a drumstick
Were in my hands.

I will kiss her full buttocks
Imagining the plump meaty flesh
Of tonight's delicacy,
And I will kiss her on the lips
And tell her I love her.

Not because of the chicken,
But simply because
I do.

I called ahead today,
And the mention of chicken
Has aroused my deepest
Passion for my love.

And yet, dare I ask for more?
Dare I speak words
That may seem ungracious
And presumptuous?

Dare I ask if she has made
Mashed potatoes too?
The ones that are so fluffy and
Creamy, and make me think
Of the soft fleshy...

I am pushing my luck.

If fried chicken isn't
A sign of true love,
Then what is?

What more does a man need,
To bring out the innermost passions
Of his soul?

Dessert is another story altogether.
Have I told you how I feel
About key lime pie?
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