Thursday, May 14, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Drink
a tough way of life:
The wild cherry
continually pressing back
peach orchards.
I am a penniless
rumsoak.
Where shall I have that solidity
which trees find
in the ground?
My stuff
is the feel of good legs
and a broad pelvis
under the gold hair ornaments
of skyscrapers.
-William Carlos Williams
Monday, March 23, 2009
in the vein of Marianne Moore
Sharks have a covering of dermal dentricals
that protect their skin from damage and parasites and
improve fluid dynamics. Fluid,
their movements, through pools of ocean dew
standing still on sea plants- plants that are really animals
with murky names like zooxanthellae,
which “live inside the
translucent fleshy tissue of many marine animals
including types of giant clams, nudibranchs and even jellyfish,”
and which, for this, are considered to be
parasites.
“For that matter, I’d call a baby a parasite,”
he said, referring to the fusion of gametes
to produce a new organism-
an organism which grows in-
side the “translucent fleshy tissue” of mommies
for many months,
only to plop out one day, slimy and red-
a perturbed little body that screams
hello to the world.
“You have been deceived into thinking that you have progressed,”
into the world of man, into the world of morals and dignity-
but we who hail from the family hominidae,
we who call ourselves
Homo Sapiens are, really, just bipedal primates-
zooxanthellae with lungs.
-Julia Kennelly
Thursday, March 19, 2009
A Monster Owl
out on the fence
flew away. What
is it the sign
of? The sign of
an owl.
.
-Lorine Niedecker
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Channeling
Somewhere in
an old man walks
with no concern for
where he is going for he is going
nowhere. He walks
with no concern for his
fellow man for
this man has no fellows.
He walks
past buildings and houses and stores which
remind him of a distant past and
he could swear
that his old pal Bill
used to live right here
right here in this house
in this
broken down falling down
old house.
People shove by him and he wonders
where they are going
in such a hurry.
The streets scare him
the noise and movement and
the feeling that he’s missing
something scares him.
He walks
faster now hoping to get away
away from the sirens, away from the blank
stares on blank faces
he walks towards
something familiar
something he knows but
he just can’t remember where
he is going.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Things that make me happy
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Food poetry
(As Prepared by one Kristian Marlow)
Amouse-bouche
Tickles the taste buds,
And stimulates saliva;
Made of diced green apples,
Sautéed in olive oil,
Mixed with fried, minced pancetta
And just enough cinnamon
For the nostrils to notice.
First plate,
Or rather a bowl;
Potato and Leek soup,
Topped with a dollup
Of red jalepeno infused oil-
A blindingly hot contrast
To the warm potato mush
Surrounding it.
Second plate,
Sea Scallops Veracruz;
Blanched scallops,
Minced garlic,
Fresh cilantro, chopped.
A pinch of cumin,
One small tomato,
All drizzled with olive oil-
Extra virgin, of course.
Next comes Beef Tenderloin,
Dripping with blood,
Rare as I like it,
With red wine reduction.
And nestled nearby is carrot puree,
Whose sweetness meets
Savory meat
And kisses it hello.
Top it all off
With Tiramisu;
Delicate lady fingers
And Mascarpone cheese.
Italian for “pick me up,”
But bogged down with Brandy.*
All washed down
With elegant Pinot Noir,
Aged just three years
In an old oak barrel.
*Disclaimer: Tiramisu was on the original menu, but not actually served.




