April 11th - The Way to a Man's Heart

Today Meghan wanted me
to try this lasagna pie that looked
pretty tasty. She said to me
while we made it in the kitchen that
"You have to make sure the meat sauce
goes all the way into the pasta
or it makes a crater when it bakes,"
and I know that somewhere in her voice
is an off timbre that tells me
she is strangely satisfied
by stuffing meat into ribbed hole,
like a rigatoni, or something else
which satisfies me. She says while
it relaxes on the counter that it is
so gratifying to have that meat in there
nice and deep and snug, then to drizzle
the white cheese (it's Parmesan)
all over the top, like frosting
on a cake. I stifle a laugh. When
we dig into that lasagna pie,
I have to choke down the double-entendre
beneath the delicious meal, but
she moans in some strange way,
rolling her eyes, then gazing up,
and says "This is heavenly."
I agree: it's fantastic, a long,
deep, moist rigatoni, brimming with meat,
plastered in white cheese.