Everything that I post on this blog (unless otherwise indicated as being "old" or "from the archives") is a rough draft. Usually it's the "poem draft." I'll scrawl something out by hand or sometimes I'll type out a jumble of stuff, and then I draft it into what could be then called an actual poem. This is the version that gets posted for everyone to see. I've done this, so far, simply to force myself to write more. I am a big time reviser and will revise a poem from it's poem draft form several times. So feel free to post comments about things that would make the poems better, they are not in their final stages. Most of what I'm doing here is experimenting.
Today I wrote what I was trying to make into a sort of prose poem. I'm not very good at prose poems, so it turned out like more of a weird short essay. Anyway, here's the attepmt:
What my nose has to do with it.
My husband likes complicated foods like stir fries and casseroles and pasta dishes with lots of different textures, flavors and colors. My favorite food is a hamburger. Ground beef and a bun. The best hamburgers come from really good ground beef that’s cooked to just the right temperature—no need for fancy herbs or spices.
I always order the same things at restaurants. I find a dish I like and I order it over and over again. At Chinese restaurants I order sesame chicken—every time. If their sesame chicken is lousy, I order until I find something I like, and then I rarely ever change my order. I know I’m not the only one who does this, this holding on steadfast to clear-cut flavors, clinging to the good ones when they come along, a little afraid to complicate things.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t enjoy bland food, I like simple food. I tell my husband that it’s my nose’s fault. A brilliant genetic wonder: larger than average and more sensitive than most. Scientists calculate that as much as 90% of our sense of taste comes from our sense of smell. I’m certainly no savant though, and with this ability came other curses, like a generally sensitive set of sinuses.
Sometime my husband tells me I’m missing out by not trying new things, but I enjoy the simple tastes, amplified. Just imagine what I could do with this ability in other areas of my life—the capacity to enjoy the most simple things in life with immense pleasure.
Today I wrote what I was trying to make into a sort of prose poem. I'm not very good at prose poems, so it turned out like more of a weird short essay. Anyway, here's the attepmt:
What my nose has to do with it.
My husband likes complicated foods like stir fries and casseroles and pasta dishes with lots of different textures, flavors and colors. My favorite food is a hamburger. Ground beef and a bun. The best hamburgers come from really good ground beef that’s cooked to just the right temperature—no need for fancy herbs or spices.
I always order the same things at restaurants. I find a dish I like and I order it over and over again. At Chinese restaurants I order sesame chicken—every time. If their sesame chicken is lousy, I order until I find something I like, and then I rarely ever change my order. I know I’m not the only one who does this, this holding on steadfast to clear-cut flavors, clinging to the good ones when they come along, a little afraid to complicate things.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t enjoy bland food, I like simple food. I tell my husband that it’s my nose’s fault. A brilliant genetic wonder: larger than average and more sensitive than most. Scientists calculate that as much as 90% of our sense of taste comes from our sense of smell. I’m certainly no savant though, and with this ability came other curses, like a generally sensitive set of sinuses.
Sometime my husband tells me I’m missing out by not trying new things, but I enjoy the simple tastes, amplified. Just imagine what I could do with this ability in other areas of my life—the capacity to enjoy the most simple things in life with immense pleasure.
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