Slam Poetry Popcorn – You Suck at Cooking (episode 55)


The autumn I told you that popcorn was magic, reached into a pocket and pulled out a handful, stuffed it in my face with full eye contact, You never called me back. Corn. Kernel. A kernel of knowledge. On the counter encountering kernels, overcoming hurdles… On top of the onion, we heat up a pan, some coconut oil from faraway lands, the molecules moving and start to expand, with a shake of a hand; Friction. Chicken. A kernel like an egg the size of a drop, underneath an inferno that’s getting real hot; once that spark is ignited you know it can’t stop. –unless you turn it off. It’s been twenty seconds since you filled it up, you might feel the urge to just stop and give up, you lazy F%&@. Pressure. I’m four feet from my dresser. Four minutes away from texture mouth pleasure. That oil sizzles hot and it stings like a b&tch, like a pin in your finger instead of the stitch, one of your best friends in bed with the one you were with, or a very small rock in your shoe, at the tip, with miles to go and nowhere to sit. If I only had velcro, I’d give it a zip. A holster with nothing to shoot from the hip, when the bottle lands sideways while trying to flip, an entire dry breadstick with nothing to dip, a kink in your knee when you’re trying to skip. Pain. Hurts. Lid. A glass ceiling. A container of motion, held stiff with my fist; can’t stop this commotion: we’re not making popcorn, we’re making a potion to heal the world. –or for snacking purposes. Exploding. Like an idea. Also like popcorn because it actually is that. What started as kernels expanding so full, we put that expansion inside of a bowl, an above ground hole. Salt from the sea, smoked paprika, then Wangjangle™. Then grab it by the fistful, transport it to your face-hole, fill it like you’re shoving love inside the gap inside your soul. Soon you’ll be full with your head full of clouds, delicious small crispiness cracking out loud, Uncle Mark looking down… I need to wash my ceiling. Not exactly proud. Two cars with only a one-door garage, is popcorn real or just a mirage? Reality. Beneath that hard shell of armor that makes us so tough, there’s light fluffy softness and unspoken thoughts… (unless you’re a bit of a blatherer. You might have said everything already. Probs TMI.) Because sometimes life is tough, you’re past the point of having had enough, the tears start to fall like you’re leaking your soul, your chest starts to swell and your gut stirs[?] a hole… Brace for the shock and let it roll through you. Then reach for the popcorn. Open up. Let it soothe you. *crunching* But as you get to the bottom of that bowl, take those unpopped kernels, and lift with a feather. Then keep them in a special place, [whispered] forever. Because popcorn will always have your back. Popcorn will never give you flack. Popcorn will never borrow five dollars and not pay it back. Popcorn will never borrow your car, get into a fender bender, then say it was already like that when it brings it back. So never be afraid to pop Corn… Also we need to SAVE THE OCEAN. The End Bye

76 Replies to “Slam Poetry Popcorn – You Suck at Cooking (episode 55)

  1. Popcorn is my favourite food I eat it almost every day I would everyday but your jaw starts to hurt on thirdish day. So this.. this poem was on a spiritual level for me.

  2. Now also poetry? Me dude, if ya pull out one more random unexpected cool skill im gonna focking LOSE MESELF!!

  3. Who are you? Man with amazing editing skills who can cook AND YOU MADE HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE CRY OVER MOTHERFUCKING POP CORN

  4. Oh that little bowl by the windowsill, where you keep the stems from the apples and the corn grains and whatever else…for, forever (whispering) !

  5. “Because sometimes life is so tough
    You past the point of having had enough
    The tears start to fall like you’re leaking your soul
    Or your chest starts to swell in your guts there’s a hole”
    That actually hits deep I don’t care if this was supposed to be a funny video those lines makes me want to cry wtf

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