[Poetry Friday] Marge Piercy’s Cozy Poem

poetry friday

Fats here.

About two weeks ago, I subscribed to Knopf’s Poem-a-Day emails to celebrate National Poetry Month. I will share a few of these poems for Poetry Friday, starting with a very homely, very cozy poem written by Marge Piercy.

As stated in Knopf’s website,

“A reflection on language from the lively, aromatic kitchen of Marge Piercy, this poem originally appeared in her collection My Mother’s Body.”

Many thanks to JoAnn at Teaching Authors for hosting Poetry Friday this week!

Image result for cozy

House built of breath

Words plain as pancakes syruped with
      endearment.
Simple as potatoes, homely as cottage
      cheese.

Wet as onions, dry as salt.
Slow as honey, fast as seltzer,

my raisin, my sultana, my apricot love
my artichoke, furry one, my pineapple

I love you daily as milk,
I love you nightly as aromatic port.

The words trail a bitter slime like slugs,
then in the belly warm like cabbage
      borscht.

The words are hung out on the line,
sheets for the wind to bleach.

The words are simmering slowly
on the back burner like a good stew.

Words are the kindling in the woodstove.
Even the quilt at night is stuffed with word
      down.

When we are alone the walls sing
and even the cats talk but only in Yiddish.

When we are alone we make love in deeds.
And then in words. And then in food.

Image result for cozy

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