Monday, September 6, 2010

Why does a perfect poem taste like a perfect peach?

Perfection does this to the mouth. And to the ear.


Try this:

slice the perfect peach
slice an heirloom tomato
chop fresh mint
cube robust feta
toss a semi-handful pine nuts
add twist of pepper
basil olive oil

serve in the perfect pasta bowl…. and next time add sliced fresh fig

1 comment:

  1. Loose Gravel

    whenever I hear the reach of a pear I think of her aching in my arms
    then it is not clear who one sees at the archway
    near the end of a day
    behold a runner of messages
    dripping with the importance of his task
    into an endless stretch of sand he must run
    hoping he will carry
    some joy with his jug of water

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