What's the connection between apricots & blink poems?

They both have a seed -- one visible, one not so.   I consider them both fruit.
What kind of apricots?  Frog Hollow Farm Organic.  Amazingly sweet & juicy.  Four words which describe a blink poem when it, too, tastes good.

What's a blink poem?  Check out a few on the right side of this blog.  Or buy white eating oysters  -- 23 blink poems from CLWN WR BKS, Brooklyn.   These blink poems go especially well with apricots.

How is Hawaiian pizza similar to poetry?

This is the first time I've eaten Hawaiian pizza.  Yes, really, and I make home-made flatbread pizza regularly.  Back to pineapple & bacon; seems an unlikely combination.  But it works.  It's accessible -- which introduces the topic of poetry.

Some poems need to be accessible.  Others by their nature, clothed in fog and yet centered in themselves.  Perhaps, these more accessible by ear or mouth than mind.  

Finding Brussels sprouts & poetry in unlikely places.

Yoshi's/SF is a premier jazz club & Japanese restaurant.  So, on the menu my friend & I spy Brussels sprouts.  We are both keen on this sometimes maligned vegetable.  Our wait-person encouraged us to order them.  We did so and feasted on crispy sprouts, lemon, toasted almonds/cashews in furikake with cauliflower puree.  Oh, yes, the sashimi -- an inspiration.    Often, food is the poem as was the music.  Stephanie Teel's band & special guests, a benefit for Marriage Equality.   Did I mention dancing?

What's the connection between perfectly cooked squash and the incomplete poem?

Definitions.  What's perfect?  What's incomplete?  Is "finished" (another word for "perfect") the opposite of "incomplete?"  A meal or a dish can be incomplete.  Or can be perfect.  For instance,
the mixed squash dish (or is it squashes?) served Saturday evening at the hands of someone I never met but thanked and re-thanked with each forkful was sublime.  Everyone at the gathering agreed.  Strangers  agreeing with strangers, strangers no longer.  & there was no squash left.

By comparison, poems are never complete, never perfect.  But grateful for a chance to communicate.  Grateful for breath.

Anticipating a long beach walk, what meal/what poem will transpire?

Food and poetry both share a weight of the unknown.  A weight of anticipation.  Today it is sunny.  Perhaps the poem will be bright.  Most probably the dinner, nutritious.  Lunch will definitely be sushi.

How does Italian fig cake inspire poetry?

Taste, memorable.  Not overly sweet.  Nutty.  An edge of mystery.  Deliciousness, lingering.  Some poetry is like that.

How is cooking beets every Thursday for a month similar to a poetry practice?

Practice, as in writing poetry.  Well, in both there are oodles of colors and plenty options for the mixing.  Also, when you cut cooked beets, it resembles the practice of writing one line a day.  So many little pieces.  Put several of the lines together, and you might (might) have a poem.  Put many beet bits together and you might (yes, you will) have the makings of a great salad.

For what is poetry, if not salad?