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Poetry
Untitled Poem
by Jared T. Fischer
Untitled Poem
Free range chicken thighs, organic carrots, red potatoes, sea salt, pepper, Cajun dry rub, a baguette, sweet onion, olive oil, peanut oil, and sun-dried tomato dipping oil.

Perfect in this peaceful house at the end of the world,
three spirits joking, unmoved by the very music
and television of heaven:

After the gifts, friend, you gave me indebtedness
more bodily than if you had donated organs
to sustain my life at the loss of yours
as the quieting world lingers in love
with the sun’s plunged goodbye. It’s fun

to cook everything, heart and liver, too,
all intent on eating all, enthralled. I saw you differently
as a stranger, though loved all along,
leaving forever in a week, and saw
her also, sister spirit, walk by smiling at the pointed carrot
I peeled down low above the trashcan. How Shakespearean
of the sun to play Ophelia, picturesque departure
of beauty, lighthearted pull that into grave pool
vacuums dust and life from our accident,

that in the oven, love, roasts a chicken’s heart,
black-purple, savory in asylum sweat
of extra virgin olive oil. Dry rubbed thighs
in, o, our day’s mad soleil
crackle, bubble, burst on treacherous rocks—
cooked carrots and red potatoes licked by surf
of sweet onion, sea salt and peppery spray.

Perfect in peace: joke of all last suppers.
Posted by: Jared T. Fischer

Poetry (August 20th, 2009)

Tags: North Pole Diet Poetry


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