Wednesday, April 23, 2014
The circus, the races, the hunt, the kitchen--
These are the places human and beast
Have their most honest dialogue. You might add
The castle, the brothel, the dance hall, the studio.
It's an old family recipe:
Stack three thick steaks up just like bricks,
Shove them onto the coals and suffer
The flames to engulf them. The one
Pressed between the two will be
Tender, done perfectly.
The son pushes a hook through the cormorant's throat.
The father waits for the moment the hallali sounds.
A couple weeks back, the NaPoWriMo prompt was to use a recipe to tell a family secret. It's not my recipe, nor my secret.
Image: Henry is hoist by his own canard. And I have no idea who this person is, but this blog is fucking amazing and that's where it popped up.