Bland On Bland – Relinquishing Control (Reprised)

The theme for this week’s JVG Radio Method poem is “Relinquishing Control (Reprised)“.

After the issues with last weeks show JVG decided that seeing as though I was the contributor who made it to air, hew was going to reprise the theme so that every else who had worked so hard last week could get their bits to air. He offered me repeating the choice of repeating last weeks poem or if I felt like it doing something new.

I chose the latter and the “cult of sourdough bakers” seemed like the perfect target for this week
 

Ed Bates provided the cheesy cooking show music backing and sound effects. Thatch provided the audio production, have a listen to how it went below…

To play this poem directly in your browser – just click the “play” button below:

Relinquishing Control (Reprised)

In the shadow of the plague a new breed of risk takers
Gone are hunter gathers, replaced by hoarder bakers

Everybody fancies they can bake the perfect loaf
A soft heart and a crispy crust; few can manage both

Armed with the recipe I’d hunted down online
Fool proof, they guaranteed; that was their words, not mine

I scanned the ingredients, seemed generally okay
Though the quantities I felt should be around the other way

I’d adjust things as I went I thought, how hard could it be?
“Don’t you dare” my housemate snapped “stick to the recipe”

“Yeah but” I began, “Now buts’ my housemate cries
“It winds up a disaster every time you improvise”

“Yeah but” I continued, all to no avail
“Just do it like it says” he barked “every last detail

If you found it on the net then you know it must be true”
In the end I acquiesced to avoid another blue

Since he’d bought the ingredients, why should I care less?
I agreed to follow the recipe if he cleaned up the mess

Salt, sugar, tepid water, seemed reasonable at least
Two teaspoons of wholemeal flour – and two kilograms of yeast?

I placed it in the oven as the recipe had stated
Went into the lounge, turned the TV on and waited

I heard a creaking sound and the house began to shake
The cornices were bowing and then began to break

This gunk, like ectoplasm was oozing down the wall
As though possessed, the oven slowly edged along the hall

Somehow we escaped, though only just at that
It’s been almost a week now and we still can’t find the cat

Our cosy maisonette has been reclassified ‘free standing’
We’ll have our own postcode if it doesn’t stop expanding

We’ve pushed out the neighbours and I’m in all kinds of strife
Though hailed in scientific circles for discovering new life

I’m never baking bread again, at least not for a while
Everyone’s an expert when they’re cooking Covid style

Don’t blindly fall for bullshit that permeates the internet
And leave the baking up to bakers or risk the loaf of regret

© Copyright 2020 Ian Bland

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Also have a listen to “Everything or Nothing”