It’s almost time to get on my knees and grub for early wintergreen and wild mustard. These poems were written separately around 1980, when I was living out of the gardens at the Mill.
Edible Dramas
1. Wild Mustard
Forget the proverb about tiny seeds.
Its truth is the hot green flash
of first leaves on the tongue
when you’re on your knees in March
not sure if it’s a weed
but you can’t wait.2. Broccoli
Not the fully crowned head
but an unannounced bud
centered in its curled leaf
discovered in June
by the tip of a finger.It could be green pubic hair
drenched with Hollandaise sauce.3. Cauliflower
Cerebral, white only
if you blanch them.
Don’t forget to tie the tops
to hide them from the sun.Gray, scraggly heads,
they’re spotty in August
like old men with wet brain.
Eat them anyway.4. Collards and Kale
What sustains us
grows close to the ground:
the steady producers
surviving heat, drought, bugs
and now, even ice storms.In spring, eat them raw.
In December, boil them with salt
and chew and chew. There’s enough
for the cabbage worms
enough for you.
My thanks to métrogirl, one of my favorite Paris photographer, for the idea for the title. See her sumptuous photos in edible dramas Paris when you have a need to fantasize about lunch.
![Gustave Caillebotte. Paris Street, Rainy Day (La Place de l’Europe, temps de pluie). 1877. Oil on canvas. Art Institute of Chicago. [Source: Wikimedia Commons]](../../../../wp-content/uploads/2009/02/gustave_caillebotte_paris_street_rainy_day_1877_wiki.jpg "gustave_caillebotte_paris_street_rainy_day")
The legendary Kiki of Montparnasse posed for Man Ray’s 
![Fog at Isle Royale [Source: wildmengoneborneo.com]](../../../../wp-content/uploads/2008/04/isle_royale_fog.jpg "Fog at Isle Royale [Source: wildmengoneborneo.com]")
If there is an emerging genetic underclass, I could run for class president or class clown. Read more in 
![Grant Wood. Parson Weem’s’ Fable. 1939. Amon Carter Museum, Forth Worth.. Steven Biel describes the painting: “Parson Weems, imitating Charles Willson Peale’s pose in The Artist in His Museum (1822), opens a red velvet curtain on the legendary scene: Augustine Washington, elegant in crimson coat, white ruffle, tan breeches, silver-buckled pumps, and green tricornered hat, grasps in his right hand the slim trunk of the bent cherry tree. A row of cherries dangles from the perfectly rounded treetop, mirroring the very cherry-like fringe of the Parson’s curtain. Augustine’s outstretched left palm and furrowed brow signal a serious inquiry. His son George, boyish in stature and dress—coatless, with sky-blue breeches and petite buckled pumps—is manly in his expression. In fact, his white-wigged head is that of Gilbert Stuart’s portrait and the dollar bill. He points with his right hand to the hatchet in his left. Wood chips lie in the circle of soil at the base of the tree, its lower trunk smoothly incised and poised to split off. In the background, a well-dressed slave couple harvests the fruit of a second tree.” [Alt Text Source: Common-Place/ http://www.common-place.org/vol-06/no-04/biel/ ]](../../../../wp-content/uploads/2011/08/grant_wood_parson_weems_fable_200px.jpg "grant_wood_parson_weems_fable_200px")
