Chapter One

She walked into the kitchen
smile as soft as a rolling pin
oven ready eyes set to broil
superhot fan-assisted no tin foil
herb to make a sous chef faint
haute cuisine without restraint
hair as fine as curly fries
that’d drive a monk to gluttonize
handy as a kitchen aid
iron ware enamel sprayed
moulds of the finest silicone
I nearly blew a kidney stone

I need a chef detective she said
know where I can get one, Red?

Okay lady, what’s the beef?
I said, conscious of my teeth
(I cultivate a cool guy image
and I’d just put away a plate of spinach)

There’s a certain party in New Orleans
who dined and dashed if you know what I mean
I’d like to hire your culinary skill
and hold his clip to the charcoal grill

My rates are high, or did you forget?
Twenty a day and a crusty baguette

Fine she said and shook my hand
like flipping eggs in frying pan

She winked real easy, gave me a jostle
iced my heart with a piping nozzle