she kept finding herself in the middle of
the kitchen at two o’clock in the morning,
hands slipping over sleek glass jars, aluminium tins
and crinkling paper bags, smacking against the stove,
groping blindly in a refrigerator neatly stuffed with
oyster mushrooms and robustinni peppers,
edamame and thyme.
they ate off chipped china,
swordfish in honey orange-zest glaze,
pan-braised octopus with dill avgolemono
over a bed of artichoke hearts and carnaroli rice,
avocado papaya salad, sweet potato croquettes,
pickled ginger and beetroot relish,
roasted chestnut-date upside down cake.
she snuck it into the house one night while he was at work,
twisted off the ribbed plastic top with trembling hands,
smeared a pinky finger across the smooth surface, licked it clean.
sacrilege never tasted so good.
Author notes
this was a lot of fun to write. sometimes you can't beat good old peanut butter.
kind of random, but i still like it after all this time so figured i'd post it. as usual, i welcome your honest opinion!
(june 2008)
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Now I'm hungry!
-
This is really good.
-
after that comment to me with grammar and punctuation, punctuation more i had to come and look in one of your poems and i pick this one at random. i like it. i am not too happy that you start with a lowercase letter but am glad that you stick to your guns all way through the poem. so many use half and half ways. and it really pisses me off, i think to myself either use it one way or the other not half and half. so nice one here. you are a good poet. i like this
-
so sensual! groping the edamame thats a funny image. smacking slipping...boy you really like your food.
ribbed plastic ... there we are again...
this poem is so colorful and light despite its devious content. food words are a mouthful. zest, braised, carnaroli, beetroot...you sure know your stuff!
and you're right, pretentious food may win you brownie points if you're trying to be classy, but i still eat peanut butter out of the jar. chunky, smoothe, all the kinds. you only live once....
-
Bravo!
The flow and beauty of food! The calories mount as the night deepens with the poem and then that word...sacrilege.... to the heart! ermmmm waistline...
On the outside of this feast somewhere...you suggest that it is the creamy smooth luscious tan tongue stuck to roof of mouth sticking delight...my fave demise, pnut butter!
I did not pick that up in the write as it is. The only hint was the ribbed plastic top and the smooth surface (of pnut salty delight perhaps?)...
Now...get out the whole wheat sliced bread and let's do a tripple decker with slathers of can't believe its not butter between and a huge glass of milk!
ps...I loved it!
-
I like your poetry too apparently
This is great stuff. I love the food descriptions but I think you put too many of them. Except that this is very vivid. The second stanza is delicious.
"she snuck it into the house one night while he was at work,
twisted off the ribbed plastic top with trembling hands,
smeared a pinky finger across the smooth surface, licked it clean.
sacrilege never tasted so good." - very epic and visual and full of underlying emotion. Just how I like it
Also, awesome title.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
