In order to get you excited for our Poetry & Pie event this Saturday, we are featuring this pie poem by Taylor Katz, our poet-for-hire for the afternoon. Taylor will write you a fabulous poem on her vintage typewriter for a sliding scale fee of $10-25. A bargain in our opinion!
Not That Sort Of Woman
"Mouths don't empty themselves unless the ears are sympathetic and knowing." -Zora Neale Hurston, Mules and Men
I thought I could love you, sink in among couch pillows
as you whisked something cold to drink, tickle your child,
delight in the clothes slathered gorgeous to your body,
the body of a mother, the dusklight angling in
yet blinding no one, not even the cat licking his paws
on the arm of the dog-scratched chair. I thought I'd eat
your pies, offer you my old clothes, that we'd stain our fingers
together weeding beets or gathering currants. I'd give you
bouquets of thyme and sage with a little ribbon,
you'd drop off a portion of your final batch of butter
as the summer dripped its last beads of sweat into air
made chilly by the changing maple leaves. You'd drive us
places at night where there was wine and women
we didn't know, where there was music for us to dance to,
our braids loosening from the way we threw our bodies
side to side, laughing even when we spilled our drinks,
laughing at our dirty feet and filthy toenails.
I was prepared to know your mother and your mother's
way of convincing you to rest; I'd have given up acres
of my Sundays to help you card your wool or cut squares
of fabric on the bedroom floor. But there was none of that,
no yelling flower names across a field, no spitting cherry pits
into a hissing fire, no jokes whose inception has been lost,
no loaning you my favorite sweater, no the two of us
asleep in your bed on a husbandless night, you woken
at dawn by the rooster, I sleeping through his howl.
Thanks Taylor! We can't wait to see all of you at Poetry & Pie.