Slow Food for Sandor Katz In the age of modern miracles: Frozen logs of plastic-wrapped dough make perfect cookies in minutes. You give your spouse the extra time to bring home the bread, the wheat, the staff of life, modified for convenience in the company lab. It’s food on the table, once you’ve paid the gas and pinched the moment in a microwave, lending more minutes to your dual income for delicious splendor in fractions of the moment. But ancient wisdom says: Food for the soul takes a good spell in the kitchen to make a little sweetness in your life, to bake a proper loaf you might need patience for the yeast in the air to make love in your dough, give it rise, punch it down, kneed it with your arms, place it in your womb, the oven of your ardor – a creation from the mountain of earth, the straw from your fields and rocks from the river, in the fire you made with your own hands from the wood the trees gave you in the last big storm. Buffy Aakaash grew up queer in the hills and lakes of New Jersey west of New York City. His work is published in The Poet Magazine, Oberon, Iris Literary Journal, Write Launch, Main Street Rag, and others. He lives, travels and moves about with his dog, Bodhi.
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AboutThe poems that follow are powerful evidence that Poetry Speaks Back to Hunger! Archives
October 2022
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