Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Lunch. How was today's lunch no different from editing the the poem I wrote this morning?

Let me set the context. I've joined a virtual group of poets, committed to writing a poem a day from a received prompt. Great fun. 38 days = 38 poems = 38 lunches.

My lunches are following the shadow of the poems. Never know what will occur on the plate or bowl until I open the refrigerator. I'm beginning to see the refrigerator as
well as the cupboard as a food-prompt.

Today's lunch (which was not yesterday's and won't be tomorrow's).

sliced avocado
sliced peach
sliced Asian pear
blue cheese
sliced radishes
mixed salad greens with edible flowers (mostly bits of nasturtium & corn flower petals)
olive oil

And the poem? Pulverize the granite & who are you? Pull the twig from the crow's craw & who is the crow? (Yes, that's the title). It goes on from there.

All in all, a fine day for shaping words & eating the ripe.

1 comment:

  1. Mining Towns p. 14

    And the ghosts come howling
    diffidently across the plains
    While driving through the cactus
    one of the mother rages across the road
    one of the father skims the rising heat
    ancestors pour across the pavement
    admonishing in granite
    don't follow our ways, a confusion

    we are burning
    burning like the slim, dry sticks

    Along the highway
    all the moving
    all the questions