September 16, 2023
Recuerdos de Comida y Amor /
Memories of Food and Love
with Stacey Joy
Gentle, round Abel, so
soft spoken, barely sweating
as he worked in the heat
Hermana, ¿qué pasa?
“Nada, hermano,”
as I munch a tortilla chip
fresh out of the oil
(he’s been frying pounds of
them so patiently)
now I look out my window
and see Joshua’s Perch
up on Abel’s Mountain
and I always think of you,
Hermano
September 17, 2023
There’s a Diamond in my Soup with Stacey Joy
Dear Sister,
You remember all the
food and love showered
on us by generations.
We knew we were
loved by our eating.
I’ve tried to forget many
of these rich delights,
but you make them
over
and
over
and
over
and you don’t let me forget.
You remind me how
delicious they were by bringing
them to me–tastier, I think than
Mom or Grandma made them–
macaroni and cheese,
tamales, lasagna,
chicken pot pie,
cherry cobbler,
lemon pie,
cinnamon rolls,
biscuits…
And today you brought
chicken tortilla casserole
and chile-cheese cornbread.
I try to forget,
I try to forget,
I try…oh, forget it.
Pass the cheese sauce, please.
September 18, 2023
For the Love of Words with Barb Edler
I was six years old
waiting for the mail
Maybe this will be my lucky day!
Sometimes it was, and the
mailman would pull out that
cardboard covered package
that made my heart swell.
Two beginning readers,
this time maybe it was
Hop on Pop and
Are You My Mother?
I couldn’t make out a word,
but I enjoyed the pictures.
I probably knew the letters,
and maybe I had memorized
some words from Dick and Jane
at school (Look, see, come…)
However, these books at home
were magical.
I don’t remember my mama
ever reading books with me, though.
She was busy with seven kids.
Cooking, cleaning, ironing,
knocking new doorway holes
in the wall and remodeling
with a perfectly crafted doorjamb,
as needed. That kind of stuff.
I read books with my sister, though.
When she came home from working
at the telephone company
and/or on Saturdays (I’m not really sure),
she would sit with me and my new books.
She would paint my fingernails and read.
She somehow made the symbols
not so scary,
not so impossibly gibberish.
She taught me how to read.
I often wonder how and why
my mom ever agreed to buy
those books for me.
How could she have afforded them?
Just for me.
They even came with
my name on the box.
I have always treasured the memory.
These books are still favorites.
Every time I see a copy, I smile and remember.
Sixty years ago, and the flood of love and support
come back.
Thank you, Mama.
Thank you, Chris.
September 19, 2023
How to Triumph with Barb Edler
Generations
My grandma was quiet,
fragile, and seemed to lean
on her daughter to provide
strength, muscles, and purpose.
Her daughter, my mom,
of my grandma, but not her
Mom would have loved to study
architecture, but she married instead.
Finished raising her family–five still
in the next when her husband died.
Me, of my mom, but not her
I went to college and finished
even if it took 6.5 years and
ended in a geography degree,
the first B.A. in my family
My daughter, of me, but not me
She just came down the stairs
hair slicked back in a pony donning
a stylish sweater and sweats below
grabs the coffee we brought home
then returns to her home office
She’s a marketing director because
she asked for the title and salary to
match her responsibilities–she makes
things happen, rather than watches
My daughter, of me, but not me
Gradually, the women in our family
become more powerful
September 20, 2023
Barbie You with Glenda Funk
Random Barbie Talk
K: Are you writing a poem today?
D: Yes, about Barbie.
K: Barbie?
D: Yes, Barbie. It’s Glenda’s prompt.
Remember, you sat by her at dinner
in Anaheim? And Ken, who also liked
the movie. He has a Kenough shirt.
K: Yes, sure I remember, but I still don’t
want to see the movie.
D: I never owned a Barbie. I had a Francie
and a Skipper. Skipper was
Barbie’s little sister,
and Francie was like a
young teen with small boobs.
Lori had a Barbie and a Midge,
who had a brown beehive and freckles.
Judi’s friend borrowed Lori’s Barbie and Midge
for a 4-H diorama and never returned them.
That’s one of those unforgivable offenses
of family lore for the Reeds.
My little brother had G.I. Joe. We played
together a lot, and I must say
G.I. Joe was better.
K: Is that why it took so long for
you to fall for me?
D: What?
K: Were you looking for a soldier?
D: He had boots that were easy to
put on and a backpack.
K: I had boots and a backpack.
He also had guns.
D: Oh, I forgot about the guns!
That’s gross.
I liked his wooden foot locker.
