curling them around
i hold their bodies in obscene embrace
thinking of everything but kinship.
collards and kale
strain against each strange other
away from my kissmaking hand and
the iron bedpot.
the pot is black,
the cutting board is black,
and just for a minute
the greens roll black under the knife,
and the kitchen twists dark on its spine
and I taste in my natural appetite
the bond of live things everywhere.
Picture found here.
This time of year, I eat a lot of greens: collards, kale, chard. It’s what the CSA delivers. My quick and easy way to fix them is to chop up onions and garlic which I salute in olive oil. Wash and dry the greens, remove tough stems, and chop them up. Throw them into the skillet until they wilt. Add some fire cider and a bit of sugar, or honey, or maple syrup. Eat right away. It’s good, as my grandma used to say, for what ails you. I’m glad to have a poem about making greens.