Jan 30, 2014

Poetry About Noodles ~ Or ?

Pad Thai 
There is poetry in noodles, 
and sunlight in recycle bins.
Even cement trucks can inspire.  

Look around everything is possible, 
nothing hides behind curtain #4
or four thousand. 

Go ahead, invite the noodles to soak.
In minutes, stir-fry the silky pearl strands 
deep and fast in a hot, hot wok. 

Add the sweet thick tamarind sauce and accomplices. 
Sugar, vinegar, fish sauce and generous juices from limes. 
Enhance with mysteries, peanuts and hints of cilantro. 

Share the meal with old tiny ladies, 
the ladies who guard secrets with permanent smiles
and walk barefoot into their 

daily lives and squat to eliminate. 
Ladies who don't know a cement truck from a poem, 
but can discern every time the songs of nearby crickets 

from the rattle of a roach's antennae 
scratching late into the evening 
looking for the friendship of crumbs. 

This poem was written during my MFA program a few years ago, at Queens University in Charlotte, North Carolina. 

I walked past the noodles section at the Buford Farmers Market a few days ago and remembered this poem.  My thesis advisor, Sally Keith, was surprised at how many of my poems had food as the subject. 

Other titles included: Fig Harvest and Matters of Manchego Cheese, The Pineapple Man in Panama, Couplets with Food or Drink, At Harry's Market, Half Wings on an Oval Platter, After Too Much Caffeine and last, Hammocks and Iowa Corn. I will post one of my favorites, Saltine Crackers, The Bridesmaids of all Pantries.