The RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Tue 1/16/2007)

[RetroLounge]

A Recipe In Which My Ex-Wife No Longer Appears

Because rosemary is the herb
of remembrance, I remember
making roast chicken
with rosemary, garlic, and carrots.
It's pointless to ask for the recipe.
I've lost the directions
and can write them now in only
a simple way. I took a roaster
rubbed with lemon,
put two pats of butter
under the skin of the breasts, cut
the carrots on the bias, tossed them
around the bird, with whole cloves
of garlic, salt, and
freshly picked rosemary,
lightly scored with the edge
of a sharp knife.
I added more butter for the carrots,
drizzled olive oil over the skin,
then tumbled the butter and oil
through the carrots, rosemary, and garlic.
The rest of dinner? Perhaps the flowers,
the last of the gladiolas,
pink, red, and a peachy orange,
are a detail borrowed from another time,
though I remember arranging the stems
in an empty blue vase,
one of the few things I kept
when the marriage ended. I
would put on a string quintet,
the liner notes to which read
the brightness of the music is greater
for its knowledge of the dark, as I circled
the room and the redwood deck beyond.
I set the table, put out wine glasses,
forks, plates, the knives,
a loaf of French bread, made a salad
of escarole and green leaf lettuce,
then mixed a vinaigrette, as the house
filled with roasty smells, the garlic and carrots
just beginning to caramelize.
I remember making a fire, uncorking
the wine, a Zinfandel, and yes,
pouring a glass of it, pulling the pan
from the oven, the balsamic,
sweet-and-bitter aroma of rosemary
swelling the room, letting the bird set
and slightly cool, the moment
the knife broke the skin.
Say what you will about me
in that marriage:
Faithless, drunk, spendthrift.
My only claims are that I cooked
for her. That's what I knew of love.
And I gave her what she wanted
when she chose a different life.

Greg Rappleye

***************

RL

If you have a request for a certain Poet, post their name in the thread and I will find a poem by them and post it...

if you want to see some of my poetry, see the blog at:
http://www.myspace.com/retropaul

[KitchenWitch]

1. MMMM Food AND poetry!

Suddenly I am famished!

:hi:

[BarenakedLady]

2. I'm suddenly hungry

And I don't even eat chicken!

Lovely imagery.

And I gave her what she wanted
when she chose a different life.

damn.

[CaliforniaPeggy]

3. My dear Retro!

How lovely and poignant this is.......

I especially like this verse:

My only claims are that I cooked
for her. That's what I knew of love.

It sounds as though you could have written it.........:hug:

[Callalily]

4. Cooking is very sensual

and cooking for some one (and maybe more importantly with some one) is extremely sensual.

:hi:

[reyd reid reed]

5. The language is lovely

and the sentiments so...bereft. So sad.

:hug:

[ForrestGump]

6. Not just a poem: a recipe!

And so the oral tradition continues.


I really like it, actually. (even though it doesn't rhyme too much)

And this:

the brightness of the music is greater
for its knowledge of the dark


....yeah, baby.

[bluethruandthru]

7. Well

I'd have to say I'd take a faithful, sober husband over one who cooks anyday!

Thanks RL!

[lizziegrace]

8. Are you sure you didn't write this?

"My only claims are that I cooked
for her. That's what I knew of love.
And I gave her what she wanted
when she chose a different life."

Very sad. :(

[RetroLounge]

11. I wish I did...

It is beautiful, sad, and hits home...

RL

[ThomCat]

9. I'm a vegan so I'm going to keep lurking

quietly in the background. :P

I'm not here.

[hippywife]

10. Delicious!

;)