012119c

Needs Something

He wasn't quite sure about the soup and

Leaned in to inhale its scent;

It bubbled suddenly, and a muscular green arm

Reached out of the pot to

Grasp Chef Pierre by the throat;

His eyes bulged, he clawed at the hairy wrist,

It was no use, inexorably he was drawn in,

Thrashing a bit at first, then limp as lettuce.

The pot bubbled, filling the room

With a rich, complex aroma.