Familiar. What makes as poem familiar?

Connection to the oral tradition.
Satisfied expectation.

A pen which smooth in the hand & kind.
The paring with paper. Tactile.


Of food, carrots & string beans. Corn & tomatoes. Basil, of course. Pepper, always.

Rosemary. What is the connection between a poem & remembrance?

I read or I heard (perhaps, overheard) rosemary signifies remembrance. Do poems in which rosemary appear signify remembrance? It is specific to the one writing? Or the one hearing? Is rosemary in poetry a universal metaphor for remembrance? Are universal metaphors possible?


Besides rosemary, which foods signify remembrance? Holiday foods -- scents of remembering.

Unsettled. Do poems cause a reader to become unsettled?

As in unsettle to be settled. Tipped over and righted again. Imbalance follows balance follows imbalance. Breathing. Walking. Consider, walking a poem this afternoon -- rain or no rain. Avoid contact with placid poetry.


What's the equivalent in cooking? Whole onion (balance), cutting up the same (imbalance),roasting the pieces results in balanced joy. By the way, why is joy rarely singular?

Rot. Is rot the opposite of ripe in a poem?

How does rot set in? Once set, is it eye-noticeable? Can you smell rot (or ripe) in a poem? Is this a verbal placeholder (like many poems) to discuss "fecund." Let me be clear, I'm not talking about rotten poetry.

One final question (for the moment): Is rot bacterial or viral in poetry?


The New Yorker wrote (somewhat recently) about "rotten" food -- a delicacy, a trend. I'm not buying; I'm not serving it as I pour myself a glass of wine and contemplate the 22 out of 26 days of rain the ground is enduring.

Ripe. Can you tell by looking at a poem if it is ripe?

Does this imply that the best poetry is seasonal? Should poetry be eaten at its ripest? Is it cultural -- some like fruit hard with a bit of crunch. Others, sweet. With fruit, it is sometimes difficult to select the ripest by visuals alone. It is only in the dissecting (knife or teeth to flesh).


I'm anticipating peaches and stone fruit of all kind. Prune plums have made their first appearance. Patience for these as I roast another pan of pears and observe the shape of the poem before me.

Mimic. Which bird does poetry mimic?

Plural? Each sound, a place for. Each letter, a feather for. Why do most questions mimic themselves and are inherently reversible?


Which foods mimic others? Which are substitutes for each other? Is food reversible?

Gnarled. Does too much editing cause a poem to become gnarled?

Or too little? Is this more of a poem's personality than a physical attribute?



Gnarled food? Olive trees. And a small plate of their fruit with Gnarly Head Zin.

Raven. How do differences between raven and crow shed light on poetry and prose?

All ravens are crows.
Not all crows are ravens.
Note size.
Distinguish shape of tail feathers.
Listen for their calls.

Now, apply the above to poetry & prose. Noting that beauty unifies.

Raining harshly this morning; it appears ravens & crows have self-grounded. Exploration of differences on temporary hold. Thus, haiku (the cat) sleeps.



About food. Huge difference between tuna (recognizable as fish) and tuna (contained in can). Both are tuna (I think).

Craggy? What's the source of craggy in poetry?

Difficult to ascend (or comprehend)? Particular subject(s)? Shape of poem? Shape of poet’s face?


Craggy food? Those with spikes and many a crag, Artichokes, Nettles. Durian. A chef with a particular visage.

Abalone. Is poetry as treacherous to harvest as abalone?

An activity for the fit. For the adventuresome. Mediating over the eating of. Not over the wrenching from rock. How do you harvest your poems – land or sea? Air?


Back to meal. Pound abalone thin. Quick sauté. Less is more.

FYI: yesterday was Bev’s birthday.

Gasoline. What fuels poetry?

Does a poem run most smoothly on its own steam? Momentum? Once on the page, does the reader supply the heat source?


Cooking with gas accommodates so much. Food served room-temperature (does the room matter?) often improves the cooked meal. Rice salads. Marinated figs left on the counter cooling. Left for the taking. When is poetry best served room-temperature?

Malleable. Are poems less malleable than prose?

Waiting for the sentence to weigh-in on the subject, let’s consider the equivalent in food.



Tofu. Eggs. Supernovas of malleable food. The Malleable Cuisine – look for it 2012.

Fence. Are poems fence-sitters?

If they fall, do they crack never to be put back in a semblance of whole? Their edited seams inside-out and showing.

Or contraband?


Fence-sitting foods? Are these ones which straddle time. Soup and/or salad for breakfast. Pancakes and/or eggs for dinner. And of course, pizza always and especially breakfast. The latter quite contraband.

Shards. Are words the shards of a poem?

Portable. Discernible weight. Raised to light. Put in an envelope. Sealed. Or left in a drawer.

Does each word come with instructions? Guarantee? History.


Is any food without history. Or weightless. When garlic is minced, is the result shards of garlic. Do shards come in a myriad of shapes – diced, sliced, julienne. Truly, are shards more verb than noun? Partial to poetry than prose. (Another conversation)

Edge. Do all poems have an edge?

Is edge singular? Is a line break an edge? Do you count enjambment as an edge? Or a ledge?


Obviously, there are edges to food. Spice & heat. Ledges are ladles and soup spoons. Now, what of the empty bowl?

Fragrance. Can a poem be fragrance free?

Much made of fragrance in public where I’m from. To be truly free of scent is to be sterile. (Death, of course, is the natural stink). Does a particular kind of poetry trigger an allergic reaction. Is there a list of words that sirens -- bee to honey.

Vanilla and the baking of bread have been lauded to improve the impression of a house. If there were no garlic, how much would not be savored – food & word.