Category: food/cooking
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#4 grocery shopping before it rains
impulse buying sucks grocery list will help you eat before you go 10-29-20
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Two ways to eat poetry
1) Remove factory slices from plastic bag Be sure to retwist the tie to keep the rest from going stale Every slice the same thickness note uniform color and texture An occasional baked in void or bubble will drip butter on your shirt Enriched and fortified Easy to digest 2) Walk to a bakery Buy…
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Lunch at the deli
While cardinals flit bright in trees, Mockingbirds, robins and jays order lunch from a menu written in lines left in dirt from yesterday’s raking; Carolina wren waits patiently to bus tables when they leave 10-19-20
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Chef Potato head
Water the eyes of one potato and they will reveal fields of possibilities Cut, slice or dice – French, hash, cottage, mashed, scalloped, baked, fried or au gratin style In an oven, fried, grilled or boiled smothered in cheese served with love 10-14-20
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Window sill tomatoes
Before autumn killed the last tomatoes on the vine mom would gather in the not-quite-ripe and green set them on her kitchen window sill. She would rotate them everyday until they were ripe enough to eat, but some rebelled against her best intentions, bruised and rotted in the sun and stained the painted sill. 10-13-20
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hillside morning haiku
ground hog on wood pile red-tailed hawk perched in dead tree food channel network 9-17-20
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a poem for G.K. Chesterton
Relaxing in the dark the moon appears luminous in the trees above my yard. I wonder who started the rumor about the moon being made of green cheese, when clearly it is Havarti curd. I savor a bite of extra sharp New York style cheddar cheese and say, the next slice is for you, Mr.…
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For those who know
Poetry does not need to be long and convoluted to reveal a truth that you have always known, but had not put in words- let me demonstrate: Bacon, how, warm or cold, good. 8-22-20
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For Riva’s Franma
I’ve inhaled the last third of my half of low country blueberry pie Licked my fingers the four pronged fork and fed squirrels the crust With sugared lips and purple poop I return sated to ketosis 8-6-20
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Birds like sticks of dynamite
birds like sticks of dynamite circle a ship in the bay while he plants fruit trees amongst gallows on the hill birds return to roost as ship sails north into the sea sweet juice lingers on lips drips upon their chins 7-28-20
My husband's poetry 