Charitable Crumbs
hors d'oeuvres before our upcoming feast
There is no occasion when meals should become totally unimportant. Meals can be very small indeed, very inexpensive, short times taken in the midst of a big push of work, but they should be always more than just food.
— Edith Schaeffer
This week, we offer up a small tasting menu from our previous issues in anticipation for Bounty!
Mary Prepares the Common Meal on the Morning Before Her Visitation by Matthew Miller
Mary - Luke 1
The tannur burnished with slaps
of flatbread. Ruptured chimney of clay,
wearing away in combustion;
eucalyptus crackling against oak.
The crater billows with
smoke, an impassioned
dialogue within, blackened
by what’s been spoken. Most days
are just broken cucumbers, slices of
apricot. Number what stays the same
tomorrow, same grind stone
to crack bitter legumes, to roll
the rebellious edges of dough with
common little rubs. The beloved
hears her name in flame, in clouds
that nestle between hollows
and thistles. I’ve blistered,
repeating the tasks, obedience
over every little scrap. Wine drips
from pores in the cask. But today
I want to cleave its surface,
spill what’s sweet over figs and leeks,
let my service froth into
full purpose.About the poet: Matthew Miller teaches social studies, swings tennis rackets, and writes poetry - all hoping to create home. He and his wife live beside a dilapidating orchard in Indiana, where he tries to cut paths through the thorns for their four sons to hike through. His poetry has been featured in Whale Road Review, River Mouth Review, EcoTheo Review and Ekstasis Magazine. and can be found on his website.
Honey Is a Promise by Tyler Rogness
I could use a good stir about now. The top and surface of things is watery sweet, and sweet enough, and it would be so easy to dip it up, over, into the cup. But press in— look more, I say. Jam your spoon down deep-like to the raw heart of things and spin it up. Take nothing less. There—this is what you’ve wanted and been waiting for—the fully body and velvet promise of how many stings and salves and all that stuck to deepen the tasting, every sip of your steeping days.
About the poet: Poet and essayist Tyler Rogness lives and writes from St. Paul, MN. His writing has appeared in Ekstasis, The Clayjar Review, The Rabbit Room, Sehnsucht, the Amethyst Review, and other publications. He writes on faith, life, and language at:
Pleasure of Water by Carol Park
A head of little emerald leaves
calls to me from my veggie plot
Supple & without blemish
my beloved lettuce—though in my sink
toughened & yellowed.
I dunk the sullied mass & rip
blighted matter off. Leaves
congested—dirt stuck within
a throng of tiny glistening greens
held close.
Upon shaking a bunch, a bug crawls out—
My fingers open green ridges—
I dunk and dunk again—
how much more dirt comes out.
Is perfection always beyond our fingers—
perpetually insisting on one more dunking?
Deep within I expect complete purity.
Enough—kindness deserved or not!
Greens make salad—a bit of dirt or not.
feasting at a resurrection table.About the poet: Carol Park’s homes range from suburbs to wilderness, Japan to California. Her work includes teaching ESL, culinary arts and volunteering in a jail. Her MFA comes from Seattle Pacific University. Her poetry appears in SLANT, Minerva Rising, The Haight Ashbury Journal, Black Fox Literary, MiGoZine, Monterey Review, The Broadkill Review, and California Quarterly. Her poetry, including New Contexts 2, 3 and 4. At www.CarolPark.us you can sign up for a monthly poem or flash.
Make room for more.
Bounty will be published on November 23rd.
In the meantime, you can chew on one of our previous issues.
Savoring each bite,
The Clayjar Team
These are lovely!!!