|Art by Girl, circa 1992.|
Two potato waffles, toasted grids, lie on my plate. I envy their structure and boxy angles. I have served peas in a slinging motion, they are all over the place, like some swirling far off galaxy we don’t know the rules of yet. Delicious ellipses of gammon are flopped on top.
I have made this meal from leftover things foraged from fridge and freezer. There is no room in my head for anything more complicated; that space is full of colliding furniture.
Here, created on my plate, is a statement of deranged thought, I think. The meat represents my brain, broiled to tenderness by over thinking. I think it best not to voice this statement until after we have eaten. Have drunk enough espresso to be frightened for my health.
Calmed down by access to a verdant sprawl of shushing trees, cooling spools of field. Follow the thread of greenery gratefully back to earth. One year from now, this collision of furniture, and the galaxy of peas, will be forgotten. My brain will regain a pleasant crunch.
|Not peas- blueberries. But links the cosmos with food.|