Cooking is accomplished both indoors and outdoors. Is the same true of poetry?

Yup. Just as cooking & eating can be done indoors or outdoors, sitting or walking, so can poetry. Phrases for poems are written somewhere in the body as walking occurs. We usually say "head" but who really knows if it isn't the elbows or kneecaps which do the heavy lifting while in poetry-mode?

Poems are comprised (in English) from 26 letters. If the same were true in cooking, what would those 26 ingredients be?

black pepper
olive oil
olives
garlic
onions
lemon
herbs, various
shrimp
greens, especially spinach & kale & rainbow chard
carrots
tomatoes
wine
eggs
soy sauce
salmon
string beans
asparagus
mangoes
bananas
apples
dates
cheese (all)
bread, especially French
crackers
chicken
nuts (all)
beets
mushrooms
peaches
pears
persimmons
potatoes
rices & grasses (as in wildrice)
corn
edamame
pasta
duck
avocado
sushi
sashimi
soups/stews


you didn't think I'd forget mussels & oysters?


clearly with cooking, the alphabet expands to fit the taste

What is the accent of color in a poem equivalent to mint?

Something bright. Spring-ly green. That new shoots-green. In poetry freshness. A clarity in which the mouth hums. Or whistles the word forth?

What do farmer's markets & poetry have in common?

Their structure. They can be seen & read as singular. Both can be enjoyed as a community. Community? You know, an anthology. For what is a farmer's market if not a compilation that one dips in and out of with French plums in her hand. (Well, soon those glorious plums will appear in the markets). Poetry, on the other hand, delivers ripe fruit regardless of season. Imagine that!

What kinship do favorite recipes and the not-quite-finished poem share?

Reclaiming the almost forgotten. Updating,in the case of favorite recipes. Editing, the poem. Sometimes, there are more than one poem. Sometimes, side dishes in place of an entree.

What is the correlation between the number of ingredients in a dish and the number of words in a poem?

Simple, really. Depends upon who is cooking and what is being cooked. Depends upon who is writing the poem. And with cooking & poetry-making, depends upon a deadline (real or perceived).

In addition much depends upon the physical dish or plate engaged in this dance. Also, the size of paper -- loose or in a notebook.

The market doesn't carry what you went there for. Does this dissapointment flow into the next poem you write?

Yes, if you don't love mixing up the unexpected. Yes, if you don't love substitutes. Yes, if you don't believe leftovers are the best food possible, and the refrigerator deserves such gems.

Last night, no mussels to be bought. The refrigerator (or when no one is listening -- icebox) contained string beans. Well, there you have it. This is the house of many pens; of much fruit.

Who says, string beans & sushi are perfectly matched?

Thus, disappointment kept at arms-length from the poem edited this morning.