we soup our bones
into a cold roux;
curry leaves, chiles,
turmeric, cumin, nutmeg
& cinnamon..
where you begin
& we end
we do not know.
we can close our eyes
& taste you even now.
harnessed to a mirror
out of nowhere,
out of somewhere
other than what we've known,
i've made temples,
for the purpose of worshiping,
out of sand.
the sea can take them away,
one by one,
while i watch
on some infinite flat beach
inside my head.
& their scent
catches us again,
we can almost place it,
almost place us amongst them;
paprika, white peppercorn,
cloves,
fennel, caraway
& star anise..
was that coriander?
i remember the scene,
vivid greens splashed beneath
that impossible orange chinese sunrise.
the people poured
out of the forest
from thatched huts,
caves, lean-tos
& hammocks,
from the trees themselves,
the brush & the ditches.
they came from everywhere,
hungry not for food
but for our knowledge,
for our spices.
"was there any word
from the great empire?
let us taste it..."
but we moved on
& learned that our dreams
could become ghosts
within those feverish landscapes.
the mountains to the west
called to us.
that was where we would find them.
from our side-packs
we pulled the flavors
that would buy our way;
mustard seeds,
bay leaves, ginger,
mace, cardamom..
take them all,
we have to find the masters
beyond the woods.
& what we've known of madness,
we'll place upon our tongues
like hungry beggers
while we learn... |
Submission Name: the great empire
