Your values are messed up
Yet you tell others to shut the fuck up
Afraid of what lies beneath the veneer of your money
A padded room for the few who can afford the view from the keep
Water surrounded, hounds guarding a pile of soulless greed
People starve in the streets and bathe themselves in dirty sheets
Using pennies like flint, trying to quench a fire in their bellies,
Yet this belies the awful truth of how things work
This conception of money, tattered pieces of paper with more value than a human voice
Choked out by the flow of information, never satiated and
Hearts deflated with years of oppression, obsession with a dream that is more whimsical than
Prancing unicorns, along a hilltop draped in daisies and bluebells, honey bees
Flitting here and there,
That’s where people want to be, but many of us shall never be free
lest you think less of it
a cardboard box and without
a bagel and lox
not golden man
education about living with less and stress
deconstructed lives and genuine strife
negative 13 on a Boston night
fingers falling off and face freezing to itself
less of a concept and more of a con
not those on the streets but
the people in the pleats
please forgive this rant
steeped in negativity
shrouded in the limelight of the city
clouded in the vents of humanity and manhole covers
but not the covers of warm beds and down pillows
down the street a ways and in the side alley,
bottles picked up, five cents a piece
nonsensical non sense
and intensified inflation
shunned by society and looked upon
with the absence of sobriety
what has this society
come to be?
Polenta and sliced almonds, olive oil and goat cheese. Breakfast saugage rounds out the mixture, which is far from high cuisine, but extremely satisfying and soul warming. Taking on the appearance of scrambled eggs but far from the texture and taste of said eggs.
This will be a repeat, and was born out of necessity and a snow storm. Resiliency can be found in the oddest places. Snow after all is only snow, and those who choose to put it in a lofty place need to be cognizant of the natural world. There are cycles and seasons, we are on a living thing that is constantly changing. To pretend like we are separate or in some way better than natural forces is a true misnomer. Just because cities are here does not mean that nature has left. The wind still howls, and those who are to weak to deal with it can stay inside.
As the flakes make their way to the sidewalk a whisk melds lemon, the perfection of granulated sugar, and gooey yellow eggs. Ginger has also been added to the mix, and so a culinary adventure begins, or rather, continues. Far from the divine biscuits and gravy yesterday, this dense sugar lemon bomb is going to be like getting punched in the face. The biscuits were good though, white lilly flour, extremely light and fluffy.
Its cold today 11 degrees, and people are all over social media, telling each other about the snowstorm. I mean everyone knows its snowing, so I sometimes find it far fetched that everyone shares what they did where they are. Nothing is private anymore, and I don’t always want to know what someone had for dinner. I do find redemptive value in the introspection associated with food as opposed to the weak attempt to tell others how you are superior to them by trumpeting where you went last weekend or what your puppy did.
But I am excited for this cake, and with any luck I shall continue to perfect it. If I make it 100 more times maybe I will get it right, but there is the exciting bit. Arriving at perfection necessitates many failures.
"What does it taste like?"
That is exactly what it tasted like, frothy, foamy freedom. The warm tall boy of Gansett melded with my hand and as I snacked on chips and slightly melted choclate, I realized I had no idea what I was going to do next.
A calm came over me though, and on a cold Monday night in December, things sort of came to a close. Graduate school was done, over, fin. Is that relief mixed with freedom? Happiness? I know not if it is, I did not feel like I was able to codify the culmination of my graduate coursework, but I am happy that I have developed as a writer and learned more about food and the history of it.
the kindest eyes I have ever seen
out of this world
and into another dimension
falling through to a realm I have never seen
seemingly effortless and lets see
freeing and calming
seamless and seeming less of a chore
hardly that, never a bore
usually I can find words like its my job but
where are they, I can’t
find them, they seem to have disappeared into
a clearing, flowers abound
and I fall, into the earth, grass enveloping
grasping for some sense of reality
but sense it need not be
thinking falls away over the gorges, water dropping
and into the mist
I see her, golden hair
ease and pizza,
I am home
I am home
I am home