Food poetry Wednesday is upon us, fair readers. And I’ve got a feast for you today.
Today’s poem is from Carolyn Kizer, Pulitzer prize winner and noted feminist. And although today’s poem is tinged throughout with her particularly cutting brand of feminism, it still manages to retain a raw yet fragile beauty. Hope you enjoy…
Food of Love
“Eating is touch carried to the bitter end” — Samuel Butler II
I’m going to murder you with love;
I’m going to suffocate you with embraces;
I’m going to hug you, bone by bone,
Till you’re dead all over.
Then I will dine on your delectable marrow.
You will become my personal Sahara;
I’ll sun myself in you, the with one swallow
Drain your remaining brackish well.
With my female blade I’ll carve my name
In your most aspiring palm
Before I chop it down
Then I’ll inhale your last oasis whole.
But in the total desert you become
You’ll see me stretch, horizon to horizon,
Wisteria balconies, dripping cyclamen.
Vistas ablaze with crystal, laced in gold.
So you will summon each dry grain of sand.
And move towards me in undulating dunes
Till you arrive at sudden ultramarine:
A Mediterranean to stroke your dusty shores;
Obstinate verdure, creeping inland, fast renudes
Your barrens; succulents spring up everywhere,
Surprising life! And I will be that green.
When you are fed and watered, flourishing
With shoots entwining trellis, dome and spire,
Till you are resurrected field in bloom,
I will devour you, my natural food,
My host, my final supper on the earth,
And you’ll begin to die again.