Everything from Scratch

The most perverse desires
involve flour,
cream coming to a simmer,
the butter’s yellow lust
sliding in a pan.
Tongue lolls over Merlot.


Whole tomatoes brandish virtue
like a host of red-faced angels.
Their skins are tough
and the knife slips,
while eggs slither
from jagged shell mouths.

This is the penance
and the recreation,
the evening ritual
of denial and love.

The hours have stolen
and autumn bleeds
saffron, turmeric.