It’s All Gravy<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
a gravy with little brown specks
\na gravy from the juices in a pan<\/p>\n
the pan you could have dumped in the sink
\nnow a carnival of flavor waiting to be scraped<\/p>\n
loosened with splashes of milk of water of wine
\nlet it cook let it thicken let it be spooned or poured<\/p>\n
over bird over bovine over swine
\nthe gravy of the cosmos bubbling<\/p>\n
beside the resting now lifted to the table
\ngravy like an ongoing conversation<\/p>\n
Uncle Benny’s pork-pie hat
\na child’s peculiar way of saying emergency<\/p>\n
seamlessly \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0with sides of potato of carrot of corn
\nseamlessly\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0while each door handle sings its own song<\/p>\n
while giant cicadas ricochet off cycads and jellyfish sting
\na gravy like the ether they swore the planets swam through<\/p>\n
luminiferous \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0millions of times less dense than air
\nubiquitous \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 impossible to define a gravy like the God<\/p>\n
Newton paid respect to when he argued
\nthat to keep it all in balance to keep it from collapsing<\/p>\n
to keep all the stars and planets from colliding
\nsometimes He had to intervene<\/p>\n
a benevolent meddling like the hand
\nthat stirs and stirs as the liquid steams<\/p>\n
obvious and simple \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0everything and nothing
\nmy gravy your gravy our gravy \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0the cosmological constant’s<\/p>\n
glutinous gravy \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0an iridescent and variably pulsing gravy
\nthe gravy of implosion \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0a dying-that-births-duodenoms gravy<\/p>\n
gravy of doulas of dictionaries and of gold
\nthe hand stirs \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0the liquid steams<\/p>\n
and we heap the groaning platter with glistening
\nthe celestial chef looking on as we lift our plates<\/p>\n
lick them like a cat come back from a heavenly spin
\nbecause there is oxygen in our blood<\/p>\n
because there is calcium in our bones
\nbecause all of us were cooked<\/p>\n
in the gleaming Viking range
\nof the stars<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
“It’s All Gravy” is reprinted from\u00a0The Little Office of the Immaculate Conception <\/em>(Saturnalia Books, 2011).<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Martha Silano <\/a>is the author of What the Truth Tastes Like<\/a> <\/em>(Nightshade Press), Blu<\/em>e Positive<\/em> <\/a>(Steel Toe Books), <\/em>and The Little Office of the Immaculate Conception<\/em>,<\/a> chosen by Campbell McGrath as the winner of the 2010 Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize. <\/em>Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in North American Review, Paris Review, Kenyon Review, American Poetry Review<\/em>, The Best American Poetry 2009, Poetry Northwest,<\/a>\u00a0<\/em>and elsewhere. Martha has received fellowships and grants from The University of Arizona Poetry Center, Seattle Arts Commission, Washington State 4Culture, and Washington State Artist\u2019s Trust. She teaches at Bellevue College, near her home in Seattle, WA.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It’s All Gravy a gravy with little brown specks a gravy from the juices in a pan the pan you could have dumped in the sink now a carnival of flavor waiting to be scraped loosened with splashes of … Continue reading