Original Post Two Week Four

This is a piece that involves the Eye-Rhyme idea mixed with some of McCannell.

I remember my mother's knife
and her first apprehension
to pockets and some vast encryption
of the unplanned typology of knights.
All men are composed of similar
element: a heart, bones, the unending desire
to bed a woman half their age, deter
the older, some combination of extracurricular,
struggling to distance, not only themselves,
but their mothers and sheep and dead boars.
My recipe, two sheets of uprooted dignity, tore
from a notebook in mountainous theatrics,
cooking is an essential component
of worldliness: cutting culture into company.