Monday, December 13, 2010

Eating Poetry

Ink runs from the corners of my mouth
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
-Mark Strand, "Eating Poetry," Reasons for Moving

Confetti Meat Loaf

This dish is colorful crumbly and relaxed. It looks like Thanksgiving stuffing and tastes equally good. First preheat oven to 350 degrees f. Saute in olive oil in large cast iron skillet one orange-sized onion, 4-6 carrots, 3-4 ribs of celery, two red bell peppers, two green bell peppers, when onions are translucent turn off heat and add about four dashes of Worcestershire sauce, 1/4 to 1/2 cup ketchup, 3-4 cups rolled oats, sprinkles of yellow cornmeal, and dash of leftover wine. Then gently mix in a pound of ground beef and half pound pork, a sprinkle of cayenne, a sprinkle of nutmeg, black pepper and salt. Gently pat the whole mess slightly (in the skillet) and bake for fifty minutes to an hour. You can also use a blend of leftover grains or whole grain porridge (wheat, millet, rice, barley, rye, etc.) in place of the rolled oats and cornmeal. Have fun!

Saturday, December 11, 2010


My step-father drank coffee from a gigantic shiny percolator. The pot would sit between us at the breakfast table, and I would stare into its stainless-steel fun-house mirror. I loved the distortions of my reflected face and fingers, the breakfast dishes and tableware. My fingers were elongated when vertical and stubby when horizontal. It was never-ending fun.

One day I visited my biological father and his new wife and their two newly adopted children in Hartsdale NY. He and I were sitting in the sun in the backyard of his new house. For some reason he was trying to explain reincarnation to me. I was seven. My first thought was that after I die I wanted to come back as a coffee pot, identical to the one my step-father drank from every morning.