Past Al Dente

Was it the way I was standing
Spoon in hand like a weapon,
Water boiling over with a hiss?

Howling insults and
Sauce bubbling red.
We reached this point slowly.

Silence, now, stove clean.
We sip wine without looking
Eat pasta cooked a minute
Past al dente.

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2 Comments

Filed under poem, poetry

2 responses to “Past Al Dente

  1. author's note = this is a revised edition of a poem posted a few years ago called “domesticity”

  2. author's note = this is a revised edition of a poem posted a few years ago called “domesticity”

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