Poem – SHORTBREAD KINGS (By Joseph Cavera)



We are concerned not with the orders

of man, as pasta boils, full processes

are arranged as dinner plans.

This Bread we courier from our grills,

needs, MORE spice! and things..

We are the ShortBread Kings.

Six kings in the kitchen

and a fool garbage boy more,

we laugh, jest as he cleans the floor.

The Critics will forever sing,

of the grand entrees of the ShortBread Kings!

From our six, one handles his

food in a suit, out upon the restaurant floor-

while another finds greengage plums to mix in his

tasty soups.

I oversee the hearty three as they often boil rice

and sauté meat, as head chef, Longtemps Shortbread.

These are my ShortBread Kings, they’ll whip up any meal!

Try shrimp, alfredo, or cutlets with veal!

Banned from their previous restaurants,

I heard their sighs..

Tears rose up in faith, that unless onions you cut,

a true cook never cries!

They will be mocked further

but not before we have steamed

table three’s shellfish

and two’s chicken with lemon!

First the suit man must be sent.

Those who sautéed the onions and shrooms,

have suitman bring them to the corner booth!

He’ll light’n the mood with some opera,

while with desserts he continues scurrying.

I’ll trounce the health inspector who finds

my crisp place deterring!

I am the ShortBread King

and when the other five are lead

to say, “Lets head out back for wine

and cheer”, I say call the restaurant next door,

and break out the beer!

All the others laugh with us, not a care out there.

We Are the ShortBread Kings,

cooks and creators of everything!

That look of Lost inhibitions in my eye,

and a heart which compels me to mix and fry,

all the while the ShortBread Queen

Looks and winks at me,

as a table just opened by booth no. 3.

For me, the ShortBread King, to present a challenge,

you had best order one

of everything!