Of hot oil, or: The stove

A shadorma

every food
Papa made
including the matzah brie
that I so adored

was the sizzling hiss
of hot oil
on the stove
crisp matzah, eggs, and hotdogs
steaming on our plates

was Papa's go-to
an Eastern
European norm, I guess
simple but perfect

it's funny
(I don't mean ha-ha)
which childhood
remain into adulthood
to flavor our lives

W3 poetry prompt

This poem was written for Sylvia Cognac’s W3 poetry prompt this week, which was to write a shadorma of no more than seven verses on the topic of “favorite foods to prepare and/or eat”.

Let’s write poetry together!

When it comes to partnership, some humans can make their lives alone – it’s possible. But creatively, it’s more like painting: you can’t just use the same colours in every painting. It’s just not an option. You can’t take the same photograph every time and live with art forms with no differences.

Ben Harper (b. 1969)

Would you like to create poetry with me and have a completed poem of yours featured here at the Skeptic’s Kaddish? I am very excited to have launched the ‘Poetry Partners’ initiative and am looking forward to meeting and creating with you… Check it out!

30 thoughts on “Of hot oil, or: The stove”

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