Journal Article

Kitchen Wars, A Narrative Poem

Stein, Howard F

2025

نظرة عامة

Mom burned so much cooking I came to prefer its taste- Not so my dad, who muttered In a matter of fact voice, His teeth clasped together: \"Don't I work hard enough to come Upstairs for a better meal than this?\" I could feel his held-back fury He might eat what mom prepared, Or simply leave the table and Take a nap on the living room couch. Late Sunday mornings were A rare, regular, and longer reprieve From the relentless high tide of torment A burst of joy when dad returned home, Refreshed from the synagogue And the Turkish bath In Pittsburgh's Jewish district To our factory town, Ten miles west on the Ohio River, His arms heaped with paper-bagged Groceries, breads, and pastries- Kosher corned beef, pastrami, A jar of chicken fat, lox, Pickled herring, smoked fish, Challah, \"heavy\" Russian rye bread, A sticky pecan cake, creampuffs, bagels, Whitefish for Friday night, Provisions to last us a week- Their combined aromas, divine. Salt and pepper shakers, a sugar bowl, A cold cereal box, a butter dish, Abottle of ketchup, a salad bowl, Ajar of peanut butter and one of jelly, Abanana or orange, nothing conspicuous Or obvious, but a way to fend off Their surprise attacks upon each other, Or their faces turned away from each other, Each silently moving around in the kitchen To get the coffee pot or a piece of toast.

• الناشر: Association for Psychohistory, Inc
• موضوع: Meals / Poetry