An arts magazine at the University of Pennsylvania
Kitchen Party Triptych | Poetry as Pop Song or an attempt to stuff these damp tinder into something you can warm yourself with for 3 minutes
Kitchen Party Triptych
Poetry as Pop Song or an attempt to stuff these damp tinder into something you can warm yourself with for 3 minutes
And so I will make a sweetener out of the sinews of a broken heart.
Put the tendons and ligaments into a bowl,
whisk them into a bright paste, add in a dash of sugar or a handful of salt, and mix for five more minutes, before pouring the contents into a pan and heat for twenty-to-thirty minutes.
I’ll serve it on a platter at a dinner party with a bottle of red wine after the main course when we’ve reached the stage of the night where inhibitions are just faint outlines of proper behavior.
I will make pastries of the good days for friends. Package them into little pink boxes, with ribbons and glitter, and hand them out as gifts on holidays. I will say, “Look, these are the fruits of my labor. Here, take them. I have too many at home. I can send you the recipe.”
I will make beauty out of this pain. Shake the dirt off reality, spread it over like a clean linen, and offer my bed to a new man, my heart left open like an oven. It is a chapel in which hymns for the weekend are whispered. A man may enter only with consent. I’ll tell you it’s not an easy thing to gain. Yet I will leave my heart open like the oven. Yes, there are cakes inside. Come in, take a bite.