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Roast Chicken March 6, 2009

Posted by jeffclef in poetry, Uncategorized.
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Each square still blank, beneath the painted scene
By Van Gogh or Hopper, hung just above
The sink, where hands embrace the dull routine.
One hip gives the cold door a loving shove,
One arm adjusts the pot. Too many turns
Or needless additions, however, sicken
A sauce made fine by time; no longer burns
This ring of bubbles that brown now and quicken.
Some meals require starters; some need bread
(Sides and duos, though, don’t make a plate);
Others go simply with a glass of red—
Harmony is all that’s needed to create
One whole dish. As the sauce begins to thicken,
I slice this supermarket roasted chicken.

– J.Q. Nguyen

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