The art of persuasion
knows how to combine
a shy little house
and come-hither sign.
With so simple a glyph
Demosthenes’ voice
summons me in:
I’ve absolutely no choice.
Thanks yet again to photographer S.W. Berg.
Tag Archives: pie
Disconnections: December 23.18
Life has its moments
of bliss unalloyed,
of humor splenic
roundly devoid.
When eye and nose
and memory combine
to flour and fat and filling
enshrine.
In pie, in pie
the toothsome all:
in fragrance, form,
the anti-banal.
If ever our being
you seek to justify,
look but to crusted
invention of pie.
With many salivating thanks to photographer S. W. Berg.
And kudos to pastry artist Jennifer Berg.
Full disclosure: I couldn’t bake a pie even if you threatened me with Brussels sprouts.
But I can eat it.
Connections: November 26
THANKSGIVING ROUSER
Is there a pumpkin in your pie?
(in your pie)
Is there a lox upon your rye?
(‘pon your rye)
Pierogi, latke, dribbles on my chin,
and Brussels sprouts cannot come in.
(cannot come in)
Is there a gizzard in your pot?
(in your pot)
Giblet gravy hits the spot.
(hits the spot)
Drumstick, wishbone, grease and sticky plate,
that is why today is great.
(today is great)
Memories with nosh and sip,
(nosh and sip)
ghosts in every crumb and drip,
(crumb and drip)
but lift we glass as high as it can be
to what has been and what will be!
(and what will be)
To be sung, more or less, to the tune of “There Is A Tavern In The Town.”
Think Mitch Miller, you who are old enough.
All others, go to Google.
And Happy Thanksgiving!
Connections: November 9
Behold the crust ruffle!
Croix-de-Guerre!
For me, kerfuffle,
hapless crumbly warfare.
I’m pastry-challenged.
I just can’t do it.
Neither head nor phalange
can construe it.
So I stand in awe of others’ skill
in gustatory elation
applauding flaky flute and frill
in happy delectation.
More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives, and a floured salute to Pie Meister J.E. Berg.
Oddments 