Mixing Bowl
God, isn't cooking so pure,
and such an unscary mess.
Cutlery was born of function,
the power of intention.
The fork does what? Stabs.
The spoon? Carries or stirs.
And measures.
These five spoons are joined
on a ring, linked like keys.
Each fits inside the next largest,
teaspoon in tablespoon,
minimalist nesting dolls.
They measure, are marked
with what they can hold.
A mixing bowl exists
to hold ingredients that you
push into one another,
You, a deity pushing around clouds
and releasing storms.
Wholly dependent on the limits of the bowl,
your spoon,
your mixture should form stiff peaks,
a contained flinging of atoms.
I like how you take every day objects and spin them, helping me see their grandeur.
ReplyDeletegreat work, as usual...powerful use of metaphor that bookends the poem. i will never think of a mixing bowl in the same way (after all, it can contain a universe!!).
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