Incursion on Filet Mignon

by Bryan Franco

After he cut off a charred edge of steak:

before he bit the first bite,

he impaled the steak with a steak knife,

which stood at a perfect ninety-degree angle

perpendicular to the steak.

He imagined himself a Viking on a pillage.

The steak was a sentry to a castle he breached.

The knife was a sword that had

last belonged to his great-uncle.

He swiped the sliver of charred meat

into au jus pooling in the plate

then dipped it into mashed potatoes

peppered with black pepper freshly-ground

from a one-and-a-half-foot-tall solid-wood pepper mill

his sister gave him as a house-warming gift.

He savored the savory bite.

As his teeth chewed,

his tastebuds invaded

his brain with endorphins

which found decompression

with a single sanguine swallow

of Syrah sending his satiety

into a detention until he

could attack his dinner again.