Sunday, November 14, 2010

Poem #1 Chef IV by Gilson

One of the things some of you guys are going to find out is that Klecko loves poems, not the ones were people whine and complain about their pathetic lives...but the poems that people write to understand themselves better. The following was given to me years ago by Gilson who is currently my pastry chef, but I think when she handed it over to me, she was working at Que at the Guthrie. Enjoy.........

He tells you, first thing, that he is a genius
He licks the cake batter from the tips of your fingers
He walks into the kitchen as though he is Louis XIV walking through the Hall of Mirrors
He uses the pastry cooler as a sound proof booth to speak confidentially
He will come for a hug of mutual support before the days battle
He rests a dead chickens foot on your shoulder for laughs
He stands in the stairwell to think about his crazy mother
He says he knows you better than anyone else
He states as fact that which he wishes were true
He needs you to tell him that you have a plan
He believes in his mind he is Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront
He smokes pot on his front porch after walking the dog
He carries your summer pudding up five flights of stairs
He kisses your cheek when you have done all that he asks
He lost the truth in his forest of lies
He's afraid to look in your eye
He cries for you only once
He holds up the pill that keeps him sane
He throws it in his mouth, turns and walks away
He got you into this mess but he will not get you out


  1. Brilliant! I don't know the life, but trust the voice.

  2. Yeah, you can sence the drawn out history huh?