with one glance

Standard

With One Glance
Charles Simic

That mirror understood everything about me
As I raised the razor to my face.
Oh, dear God!
What a pair of eyes it had!
The eyes that said to me:
Everything outside this moment is a lie.
*
As I looked out of the window today
At some trees in the yard,
A voice in my head whispered:
Aren’t they something?
Not one leaf among them stirring
In the heat of the afternoon.
Not one bird daring to peep
And make the hand of the clock move again.
*
Or how about the time when the stormTore down the power lines on our streetAnd I lit a match and caught a glimpseOf my face in the dark windowpane


With my mouth fallen open in surprise
At the sight of one tooth in front
Waiting like a butcher in his white apron
For a customer to walk through his door.
*
It made me think of the way a hand
About to fall asleep reaches out blindly
And suddenly closes over a fly,
And remains tightly closed,
Listening for a buzz in the room,
Then to the silence inside the fist
As if it held in it an undertaker
Taking a nap inside a new coffin.

Photo by Luis Villasmil on Unsplash

not from this anger

Standard

Not From This Anger
Dylan Thomas

Not from this anger, anticlimax after
Refusal struck her loin and the lame flower
Bent like a beast to lap the singular floods
In a land strapped by hunger
Shall she receive a bellyful of weeds
And bear those tendril hands I touch across
The agonized, two seas.
Behind my head a square of sky sags over
The circular smile tossed from lover to lover
And the golden ball spins out of the skies;
Not from this anger after
Refusal struck like a bell under water
Shall her smile breed that mouth, behind the mirror,
That burns along my eyes.
 

a dusk

Standard

A Dusk (from Stones of the Field)
Christian Wiman
How slowly the mountain
takes it in,
like a diagnosis
of darkness.

The consolation
of a continuation
that has nothing to do
with you.

Photo by Daniel Leone on Unsplash

what came before

Standard

What Came Before
Todd Davis
The warmth of a blood-filled sky.
A westerly wind. Half-moon, smooth
as melon rind, floating above
father’s head. A boatyard
with a sea beyond. My sister,
who worked for a shipwright,
lathering varnish onto a keel.
A pod of dolphins surfacing
beyond the harbor’s mouth.
And a fig tree with ripe figs falling,
seeds mashed beneath
grandmother’s bare feet,
her way of planting
a memory that would leaf
in my tenth summer,
years after her death,
when I peeled the fruit’s skin
with my teeth, tasted
part of her flesh.

Photo by Amber Engle on Unsplash

dawn

Standard

Dawn
Octavio Paz

Cold rapid hands
draw back one by one
the bandages of dark
I open my eyes
still
I am living
at the center
of a wound still fresh

Original

Madrugada

Screen Shot 2020-07-24 at 10.45.59

Photo by Lina Verovaya on Unsplash

what music

Standard

What Music
Joy Harjo

…I would have loved you then, in
the hot, moist tropics of your young womanhood.
Then
…  …the stars were out and fat every night.
They remembered your name
………………………………………and called to you
as you bent down in the doorway of the whiteman’s houses.
You savored each story they told you,
and remembered
………………………the way the stars entered your blood
………………………………………………………………………..at birth.
Maybe it was the Christians’ language
…………………………………………………that captured you,
or the bones that cracked in your heart each time
you missed the aboriginal music that you were.
But then,
………….you were the survivor of the births
of your two sons. The oldest one hates you, and the other
wants to marry you. Now they live in another language
in Los Angeles
………………….with their wives.
And you,
…………..the stars return every night to call you back.
They have followed your escape
…………………from the southern hemisphere
………………………………………………………..into the north.
Their voices echo out from your blood and you drink
the Christians’ brandy and fall back into
………doorways in an odd moonlight.
…………………………………………You sweat in the winter in the north,
and you are afraid,
………………………  sweetheart.

Photo by Philip Schroeder on Unsplash

 

hedgehog girl

Standard

Hedgehog Girl
Vicki Feaver

Screen Shot 2020-07-07 at 00.58.21

Screen Shot 2020-07-07 at 00.59.04

Photo by Josh Mills on Unsplash

war

Standard

War
Charles Simic

The trembling finger of a woman
Goes down the list of casualties
On the evening of the first snow.

The house is cold and the list is long.

All our names are included.

Photo by Aditya Vyas on Unsplash

matzah ball soup

Standard

For a few days I have been thinking about making matzah ball soup so I can achieve fully the inner Jewish grandma status I’ve always wanted to be. Sure, I won’t actually get there. But the soup has been made for the very first time. It can certainly be improved, but it was a good first try and lovely for a rainy, stormy day.

I adapted this Bon Appetit recipe, which was okay, but I am going to look at other methods.

I also had to buy a new, giant stock pot.

for the chicken stock (this includes the adaptations I made)

2 3-lb. chickens, cut into 8 pieces
2 large yellow onions, unpeeled, quartered
6 celery stalks, cut into 1″ pieces
4 large carrots, peeled, cut into 1” pieces
2 large shallots, quartered
1 head of garlic, halved crosswise
6 sprigs flat-leaf parsley
1 tablespoon black peppercorns

Bring all ingredients and 12 cups cold water to a boil in a very large (at least 12-qt.) stockpot. Reduce heat to medium-low and simmer until chicken breasts are cooked through, about 20 minutes.

Transfer breasts to a plate (remaining chicken parts are strictly for stock). Let breasts cool slightly, then remove meat and return bones to stock. Shred meat. Let cool, tightly wrap, and chill.

Continue to simmer stock, skimming surface occasionally, until reduced by one-third, about 2 hours. Strain chicken stock through a fine-mesh sieve into a large saucepan (or airtight container, if not using right away); discard solids. You should have about 8 cups.

matzah mixture

3 large eggs, beaten to blend
¾ cup matzah meal
¼ cup schmaltz (chicken fat), melted
3 tablespoons club soda (I didn’t use this because I forgot to buy it – it probably would have helped… but oh well. Next time)
1 teaspoon kosher salt

Mix eggs, matzah meal, schmaltz, club soda, and salt in a medium bowl (mixture will resemble wet sand; it will firm up as it rests). Cover and chill at least 2 hours.

assemble and serve

1 small carrot, peeled, sliced ¼” thick on a diagonal
Kosher salt, to taste – don’t go too crazy with it
2 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh dill (I hate dill so I did not use this)
Coarsely ground fresh black pepper

Bring chicken stock to a boil in a large saucepan. Add carrots; season with salt. Reduce heat and simmer until carrots are tender, 5–7 minutes. Remove from heat, add reserved breast meat, and cover. Set soup aside.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of well-salted water to a boil. Scoop out 2-tablespoonful portions matzah ball mixture and, using wet hands, gently roll into balls.

Add matzah balls to water and reduce heat so water is at a gentle simmer (too much bouncing around will break them up). Cover pot and cook matzah balls until cooked through and starting to sink, 20–25 minutes.

the bridge

Standard

The Bridge
Octavio Paz

Between now and now,
between I am and you are,
the word bridge.

Entering it
you enter yourself:
the world connects
and closes like a ring.

From one bank to another,
there is always
a body stretched:
a rainbow.

I’ll sleep beneath its arches.

Original

El Puente

Entre ahora y ahora
entre yo soy y tú eres
la palabra puente.

Entras en ti misma
al entrar en ella:
como un anillo
el mundo se cierra.

De una orilla a otra
siempre se tiende un cuerpo,
un arcoiris.

Yo cantaré por sus repechos,
yo dormiré bajo sus arcos.

 

Photo by Patrik Larsson on Unsplash