Making supper

Rubbing salt and olive oil over the meat
I recall my boyfriend in 1986
he didn’t love me and I didn’t know what love was
besides some fluffy feeling I used to get
listening to Elvis Presley

When he took me out I was scared
as he was nothing like anyone I had known
but when we got alone in the dark
before he was ready to take me home
it was me he was frightened of

Tenderizing the pork shoulder
I can’t help but wonder what became of him
if he kept zooming 21-year-old’s
in dark parking lots, or if he settled down
with the bartender with the teased hair


Monday Random: potpourri

  • I’m using this Monday as a do-over from last week. Last week sucked balls. And you know I never use that language. But seriously. Sucked. Donkey. Ba…..well you know
  • In all fairness much of the crappiness of last week was my own fault so I’m done complaining. But that felt good and circumvented hours of whining to the husband which would start off another bad week and we don’t want that, do we
  • Question: what do you do to calm and soothe yourself? You’ve got your yoga and eating the ice cream from the container with a spoon approaches. But do you do anything quirky for your decompression time?

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Burning Question: Meatloaf


I am revising an old feature called ‘Burning Question’, a category under which I ask a variety of curious question, some urgent and some not so much. This question lies somewhere in the middle


Around my very modest circles I am known for my cookies. No, that is not a euphemism, it is true. I have nice cookies. Sumptuous and delectable. I also make a mean lasagne and I am known for my homemade soup.

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I roll out the dough
sugar cookies
dusted with cinnamon
my thoughts miles away
seeing your eyes
glazed over
like spun sugar

I’ve ruined the sauce
tears dripping into the pot
ruining it like last year
how my heart
split in two
and drained out
into February

Roll me in five spice powder
drop me in hot broth
the essence of me
will fill your sinuses
so you can never forget
how hard
you might try
how hard

Your skin
was like sugar
and the cocoa dust
left on the plate
so that after you left
I wept over truffles
and your skin-