Monday, April 30, 2018
Sunday, April 29, 2018
José Andrés Travels in Spain Late night, I watch PBS through the static from my rabbit ears. José Andrés goes through Spain, tasting the finest pastries Hand-baked in a wood burning oven and sprinkled With powdered sugar. He takes a trip Through Catalonian wine country and samples Garnacha grapes from decade-old barrels On the estate of some noble family. José Andrés is a man going bald with a paunchy stomach. It seems he’s spent his life traveling and drinking. He knows much about pastries, deserts, and grapes, But I don’t think he knows wine. José Andrés drinks the glass That some other man places in front of him And always says it’s excellent. He doesn’t search For places to visit because producers pay vineyards and restaurants To bring him meals. Watching José Andrés makes me hungry And angry. The image of food on television doesn’t fill my stomach. I’m not the fat man in a club in Ibiza beside Half-dressed women at four in the morning. I haven’t Ambled through Cádiz down to the shore Hung-over after Carnival, but just a little. José Ramón Andrés Puerta, I’ll search out wine for myself, and there won’t be TV cameras. If I’m lucky, I’ll scuff my shoes, let ripped canvas have celebrity, Point to the bottom of the menu and say, “That. I want the bottle of that.”
Saturday, April 28, 2018
--from the archives of The Broadkill Review
Denise Clemons holds a BA in Biopsychology from Vassar College and an MA in Writing from Johns Hopkins University. She spent the first twenty years of her career as an executive in the technology industry before escaping the corporate world to devote her energies to the non-profit arena. When Denise moved to Lewes, DE in 2005, she began writing the weekly food column for the Cape Gazette newspaper. She has published fiction, non-fiction and poetry in journals, chapbooks and anthologies.
Friday, April 27, 2018
Thursday, April 26, 2018
Sid Gold is the author of three collections of poems and a two-time recipient of a Maryland State Arts Council Individual Artist Award for Poetry. His work has appeared recently in Flock, Free State Review, Gargoyle and Innisfree Poetry Journal. His fourth book, "Crooked Speech", is forthcoming on Pond Road Press. A native New Yorker, he lives in Hyattsville MD.
It took me some months
to figure out you weren’t coming back,
that you’d never return the phone calls,
acknowledge the cute cards,
knock on my door unexpectedly
& then I began visiting every & any bar
or cafe that seemed likely
within three adjoining counties, trying
to guess where a shy, dark-haired woman
fully intending to forget me
would go for a drink with co-workers
or out to dinner with friends.
I even composed a manner, a look,
for the occasion of our chance encounter.
My beard would be closely-cropped,
freshly-trimmed, & I’d be wearing
a leatherjacket, somewhat worn,
but one you’d never seen or borrowed.
My demeanor would be vulnerable
but strong, independent but longing.
Merely my appearing in your line
of vision would be enough to draw you,
mumbling barely-intelligible excuses,
from the side of another man at a party
or away from a table ringed
with celebrants on New Year’s Eve.
Open-armed, you’d hurry toward me,
your eyes tearing with forgiveness,
surprise, & perhaps a splash of regret.
As always, time passed —
the years get blurry here —
& with nothing to show for my trouble
but an assortment of roadmaps,
an impatience with strangers,
I began to remember us more clearly
at the end, exhausted, the both
of us, by sorrow & negotiation,
began to hear again your parting line
like the refrain of a jukebox ballad
whose verse we never quite learned:
We’re all talked out,
Baby, we’re all talked out.
As a youngster in grade school
I found myself during choral practice
placed in the listener’s group,
a designation intended to silence
those hopelessly tone-deaf or off-key.
After a week or so, the music teacher
told me I wasn’t too good at that, either.
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
--Linda Blaskey writes both poetry and short prose. Her short story, The Haircut, was dramatically presented in Philadelphia by InterAct Theatre’s Writing Aloud! Her chapbook, Farm, won the Dogfish Head Poetry Prize and placed first in Delaware Press Association’s Communications Contest. She was recently awarded a fellowship grant from Delaware Division of Arts in the established poet category. She lives on a small horse farm with her husband and an accidental herd of goats.