my gums are so sensitive, separated and lumpy,
I have to let my cornflakes sit and wilt:
the niacin leaks out before I get it in
and the ten percent daily requirement of iron
rusts: I’ve got so mashed potatoes best
accommodate my desire: my gums
before them
relax and, as it were, smile” Ammons, “Renovating”
Eating as the only form of professionalism most people ever attain
We watched him use his spoon to mold the mashed potatoes on his plate into the shape of a volcanic mountain. He poured gravy ever so carefully into the opening at the top. Then he set to work ridding his steak of fat, veins and other imperfections. It occurred to me that eating is the only form of professionalism most people ever attain.
[ … ]
He immersed a piece of steak in the gravy that sat in the volcanic depression, then put it in his mouth. But he did not begin chewing until he’d scooped some potatoes from the lower slopes and added it to the meat. A tension seemed to be building around the question of whether he could finish the gravy before the potatoes collapsed.
— White Noise
Dickens, Uncommercial Traveler
“eesh, bangers and mash writ large!”
Eating In
When the city melts like butter
and the sky sizzles like bacon
we’ll be safe and snug
deep in our bomb shelter.
You’ll read my palm
running your finger along
the long life line.
We’ll smile
and cuddle together
like potatoes in their jackets
roll together
like sausages in the oven.
—
from Donald Hall, “Eating the Pig”
I am drawn to him, my brother the pig,
or they will burst during roasting. So they hacked them out.
[…]
