Yogurt.
'I begin the day buying yogurt in a small favorite grocery
store.'
Not pizza, nor gatorade.
Bananas
although they are imported from afar and grown in
monocultures.
Attract fruit flies in August.
Peaches
locally grown with rainwater. I ate all the farmer's
peaches alone
stacking them by the railroad tracks.
Water -
rainwater, tap water, distilled water, carbonated water,
spring water -
deep gulps, infinite sips.
Nuts
in moderation, or not, unsalted, raw, replacing chips. His
bowl
of filberts, almonds, walnuts quiet weekday mornings.
Edible plant parts -
roots, leaves, stems, flowers, fruit. In olive oil
or butter.
Potatoes -
look online how best to prepare. Baked or fried. With a
little
fish or meat.
Tea and honey,
play and prayer. Swimming and running,
talking quietly.
Bread?
Bread's possible as the Bible. Each is liable
to bloat your thoughts.
Wine and dandelions.
Dandelion wine's Ray Bradbury's story. Cans in a
pantry, books on a shelf
to the end of time.
Pasta
we used to call spaghetti, never noodles. I wonder if I
can remember how to make
grandma's sauce.
Tomatoes -
cherry, grape. Grab God's eye
going by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem