japanese restaurant
a pebble I've never eaten here before, have you?
of somber black,
polished and silent;
surfaces
midnightlake smooth,
the edges  They do their menu gold on bright red, 
supple and round just like a Chinese place.
its home, a surface Don't you think that's garish?
of crimson crisp linen,
flanked closely
by silent chopsticks.
you think I heard their California rolls are good here...
it could fit
the hollow part of your palm:
serenity, wish it to stay there,
a pool of black satin I think I saw him on TV before. He has his
quietly drowning the light - own talk show. This must be a good place.
hard, cold,
and yours in your hand:
its statement Did you know the cold Sake is better quality
and question than the hot one, usually?
is silence.
you try 
to imagine They don't give you spoons for the soup in
the rush of cold rivers  these Japanese places. At least they have
that scoured its surface, dessert, not just fortune cookies.
uncounted time, countless encounters,
losing a bit of itself every time
becoming what it would be Why do they put these rocks on our table, anyway?
when you find it,
as time flowed,
as thoughts flow
downstream... I think the food's here. Are you listening?
Jon Bohrn (1999)

 

previousindexnext

previous | index | next

plate with chopsticks