Cashew Nuts and Peridot Water

on an exceptionally hot evening, early

i have forecasted for you
(caught up in my selfish existence)
a little of this earth that smells of
salt.

tinkering like a petulant child--
my box of words
lacing them expertly into original creations--
I might have been a tailor in another life.

I have fashioned soup today,
placing it carefully in the
obvious middle of my table
as if to conjure up a festive celebration
in a dark space
with one candle penetrating its moist glow.
I am eating in penitent solitude.

oh. and
I could have been Nastasya,
spicing it with potatoes and rice, and
you would know it by heart.




taken from first line phrase "Crime and Punishment" by Dostoyevski
winner, "Voyeur" Magazine, 1976, NYC