6. of 26 - A poem for jealous people, “Mr. Weird Beard.”

​Curly coils, fading to white, moistened with dry soup, déjà vu’s appetite.
Gazpachoed gloop feeds my nostrils esprit, reverse engineering a rival chef’s authority.
Chef Topaz simmers soup like she’s singing jazz.
If only I could unlock my inner weird, my talent for thievery would be feared.
I know!  I’ll dunk my facial shag in her soup like a teabag, my morality did lag without a nag.
Chef Topaz hired a three-eyed mut, to guard her soup by filling its gut. 
The three-eyed mut vomits soup with each order, into the bowls of customers that forgive eating disorders.
I sit at a table and signal the waiter, an ignorant accomplice, a culinary traitor.
Gazpacho soup, yakked by a three-eyed mut’s croupe.
Outnumbered by eyes, I must invite the element of surprise, what treat could distract this storied franchise?
Feet.  Feet are a mongrel’s sweet.
Before I trekked to Chef Topaz, I soaked my feet in raw sugar cane baths, a wiggle of my toes, prickling noses like roses.
With the mut licking my feet, distracted by foul sweets, the time has neared, so I dunked my beard.
Curly coils fading to red, moistening with wet soup, absorbing it like dry bread.
I kick over the table, and run for the door, I slip on saliva and hit the floor.
Chef Topaz slaps my face, the ringing in my ears muffles words of disgrace.
“How dare you eat my soup, you’re so sloppy, here’s a bowl to go, an exact copy.”
I feel so weird…I’m stealing from a chef that isn’t conceded, I wanted to be weird, I’m afraid I succeeded.
I thanked her for the soup, my gaze did graze, on the kindness she gave me, customer service really pays.
I arrived at home greeted by my daughter; her curiosity deciphered a poor excuse for a father.
“Dad, it’s ok, stick to rhymes, soup is not your forte.”
I feel weird…kindness is ignorant to the greed, my stubbornness to excel has been freed.
I wring my wet beard into an empty bowl, sit beside my daughter…company is my coal.
Distracted by her sipping, from my jealous funk, I have something Chef Topaz cannot dunk.

ChatGPT's response as a contrarian:

​The poem "Mr. Weird Beard" is a prime example of how jealousy can lead to unethical behavior. Instead of admiring Chef Topaz's skills and working hard to develop his own, the narrator chooses to resort to thievery and deception to try and best her. This behavior is not only morally wrong but also reflects a lack of self-confidence and personal drive. Rather than seeing Chef Topaz as a rival, the narrator could have learned from her and developed his own unique style. In addition, the use of the term "weird" as a descriptor for the narrator's actions perpetuates negative stereotypes and contributes to societal shaming of those who are different. It is important to celebrate diversity and individuality, rather than using it as an insult.