Red Beans and Ricely Yours Louis Armstrong thin sliced hog’s head cheese, souse, and horseradish, slices of pickles—with his sisters—and the thin tomato. Juicy…
by Karen Resta I once ate a starling. -it tasted nothing like stars. it tasted like hard muddy yard with rough grass and rocky…
Eating in Silence Anger is a pulse whose clattering is inside the glass heart and the grey cathedral. Slice the peach through the plush…
Gin & Sonnet 1 part gin. 1 part vermouth. 1 part Campari. It is the bitterest dream. We announce Ourselves down sluice rush and…
by Craig Morgan Teicher I look to prove what I already believe, that each thing my eyes touch with their light is something they have…
by John Findura When the moment of absolute change comes it should be large and all-powerful – it should not have happened in my…
Each month a contemporary poet presents three poems and one personal essay in which food is consumed, passed over, or reckoned with. Craig…
Each month a contemporary poet presents three poems and one personal essay in which food is consumed, passed over, or reckoned with. Craig…
by Nikki Burst It would seem that being both a poet and a writer of a food blog would make it easy for me…