“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.