Wednesday, 28 March 2007

Off The Menu by Mike McCulley

Every joint has its specialty,
a signature tune recorded in Chicago
in nineteen forty-six, a cranberry-lime drink
mixed by a barkeep named Aurelya,

a baked quail recipe discovered
in the archives of an ancient medical library,
written on the walls of a Buddhist temple,
a secret recipe passed down

from Great-Grandma Nettie, with ingredients
from an herbalist in eastern Oregon,
from a secret stash in Louisiana,
flown in from Kaktovik.

Put away the menu, Aurelya,
serve up your best dish,
make your best moves.


Mike McCulley, Montesana, WA, USA

2 comments:

Brian said...

Great lines, I like the "Buddhist Temple" one.

Crafty Green Poet said...

I really enjoyed this poem too. Blame the earlier lack of comment on lack of home internet connection, oversights couldn't be corrected immediately. We now have the connection back, thankfully.