Jonesing for a meaty crumbly juice
filled delectable dinner that all I
recall of is being blasted in the mouth
by a taste so divine I did not realise
food could be this way.

Alas, the flavour itself is lost to
time, only the knowledge that I adored,
nay idolised, that airport burger (yeah
a little dinky shop in Hamburg’s flughafen)
is the superlative.

Wish I could recall flavours, wish they
lasted longer than the moment that bolus
is swallowed. The transient nature of
my taste buds is cruel and mysterious,
another weirdness I reside upon.

I would love another burger from Cindy’s
Diner but would it be the same? Would I
experience nirvana again or would it just
be another meal? Perhaps just the memory
is the true sustenance.