Four courses with
Prune
We all emerge from water,
Tentacles of eight roasted in slow, fragrant seas until
we
are tested
to be served;
Potatoes of the earth
nourish from the root,
growing long in warm soil,
filling with the taste
of the cord of life.
In air, country pigeons
take flight.
“It’s so rare to get them with
their heads still on,” Prune
considers,
“best serve them
next
to the seeds they eat.
Toasted”
On fire.
Invention of human,
born of the sacred four:
elemental
courses.
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