Of Collard Greens and Poetry

I cooked some collard greens today.
I made them as the people who have
Little else to eat have made them
Since the old sharecropper times,
With chicken broth and hog jowl,
And some hot sauce, and some
Vinegar, and, when I'd finished,
I was pleased.  Those damned cheap
Greens take hours to soften and to lose
Their bitterness.  They're not a food
A duke would eat.  A well-scrubbed
Family in the suburbs probably would
Choose some sort of frozen pasta
Meal instead, and people like them,
Tasteless, stupid, also cannot see
Much point in poetry.  Like collard
Greens, well-chosen words
(And skillful reading) aren't for them.
The pleasure that I get from this,
And also from the dish I made,
Is something they, so coarse
And awful, cannot understand.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-11-08 at 00:47

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arquious The PoetBay support member heart!
Cooking from scratch and following a regimen and process is quite a culinary experience. So should poetry be. Fast and processed foods are quite deleterious to the digestive tract and to our health in general... imagine what that says about (without intending to sound mean or anything) other such poetry.