Citrus roast chicken,
mesquite barbeque pork loin,
peppers
zucchini
red onions and
squash,
all oiled and salted and
dripping
dripping
dripping
their juices and fat
down to the bottom of this roasting pan where it
bakes.
Here I am
scraping and
scraping and
scraping and
flaking minute little pieces of charcoaly food,
wondering aloud,
Isn't my life
worth more than this pan
another of which I could probably purchase
from Williams Sonoma
or Home Goods
or Smiths?
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
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