“Love is Where You Find It” © John Engstrom
Cooking with Wine
for Valentine Michael Smith
I sip your broth
from a ceramic bowl,
its curling vapor
an infusion of buttercups
and beef bourguignon—
Your sister Susy must have
added the splash of Burgundy
to celebrate your love
of French cuisine. I remember
Easter in this same kitchen
when you initiated me
into the exotic mischief
of cooking with wine,
especially meats. Never
could I have guessed
how soon we would simmer
your body to perfection
here in its own juices, muscle
from bone, the delicacy
of you, scented with sage
and rosemary to take
into our selves. I heaved
earlier on a morsel of you,
and now all I can do
is sip. A gesture of growing
closer. I still feel your face
on me, the twin jets
of your breath on my skin
quick and hot. I know—
How else should we complete
a life, reintegrate the body
left behind? Grok your earthly
soul through my own flesh?
Bobby Parrott is radioactive, but for how long? This poet’s epiphany concerns the intentions of trees, and now his poems enliven dreamy portals such as Tilted House, Rumble Fish Quarterly, Rabid Oak, Exacting Clam, Neologism, and elsewhere. He lives in Fort Collins, Colorado with his partner Lucien, their top house plant Zebrina, and his upgraded hyper-quantum robotic assistant Nordstrom.
John Engstrom is a Boston-based artist-author-poet. A retired journalist-museum worker, he serves as Arts critic for the Fenway News. His collages and poems appear on Facebook and Divergents Magazine.
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