"How chronically unfashonable I am...

[Sherry Thrasher]

standing forever in kitchens and sunlit yards.
The porcelin teacups and the morning scones,
steamy glass fridges, rows of shiny packages,
a softened and folded loaf, Kentucky Fried Fox,
Red Fox; the meat and marrow slip from the bone,
lumps of human color, salt-stung, hallooing without
sound. Scent rises up, appetizing sleep.

The doorchimes pling-plong twice—
beware the meat in this restaurant."






Cento taken from: VERSE. THE SECOND DECADE.Vol 21, Numbers 1-3.
Edited by: Brian Henry, Andrew Zawacki.

[Timothy Juhl]

Sherry, of course, I'm all about this first verse and the trippy word combos like 'salt-stung' and 'Kentucky Fried Fox'. The word 'hallooing' seems out of place when paired with Kentucky. I'm wavering on the last two lines. Not sure I'm hearing a doorbell 'pling-plong'...the phoneme 'pl' generally evokes a plucking sound.

Yours,
Timoteo

[mfwilkie]

Tim makes a good point and those might be two lines to drop out of view for the mo and go for a longer poem, Sher-bear.

Magpie

[Sherry Thrasher]

Heavens! a one hundred line poem about a chef. Thanks Tim and it is so, so, so good to be workshopping with you here and here as well. I hope you will post one of your fantastic poems. I'll consider your imput.

[Sherry Thrasher]

OK, Mags.

[brianedwards]

Sherry,

I stumbled a bit over hallooing without sound, but other than that, big wow factor for me. Great to read you again.

B.

[Sherry Thrasher]

Maggie, can hallooing be dropped from the line in the Cento?