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in collection, Circling
the Core, 2008,
Enitharmon, ISBN: 978-1-904634-66-9;
shortlisted for Forward Prize, 2007
Goulash
for Grevel
A
crucial ingredient is the right frame of mind
so
abandon all ideas of getting on. Stop pedalling,
dismount,
go indoors and give yourself masses of time.
Then
begin by heating a pool of oil in a frying pan
and,
Mrs. Beeton style, take a dozen onions
even
though the space you’re working in is smaller
than
the scullery in a Victorian mansion. Pull off
the
papery wrappings and feel the shiny globes’ solidity
before
you chop. Fry the segments in three batches.
Don’t
fuss about weeping eyes, with a wooden spoon
ease
the pieces as they turn translucent and gold.
When
you’ve browned but not burnt the cubes of beef
marry
meat and onions in a deep pan, bless the mixture
with
stock, spoonfuls of paprika, tomato purée
and
crushed garlic. Enjoy the Pompeian-red warmth.
Outside,
the sun is reddening the pale afternoon
and
you’ll watch as it sinks behind blurring roofs,
the
raised arms of trees, the intrepid viaduct.
In
the kitchen’s triumph of colour and light the meat
is
softening and everything in the pot is seeping
into
everything else. By now you’re thinking of love:
the
merging which bodies long for, the merging
that’s
more than body. While you’re stirring the stew
it
dawns on you how much you need darkness.
It
lives in the underskirts of thickets where sealed buds
coddle
green, where butterflies folded in hibernation,
could
be crumpled leaves. It lives in the sky that carries
a
deep sense of blue and a thin boat of moon angled
as
if it’s rocking. It lives in the silent larder and upstairs
in
the airing cupboard where a padded heart pumps
heat,
in the well of bed where humans lace together.
Time
to savour all this as the simmering continues,
as
you lay the table and place at its centre a small jug
in
which you’ve put three tentative roses and sprigs
of
rosemary. At last you will sit down with friends
and
ladle the dark red goulash onto plates bearing
beds
of snowhite rice. As you eat the talk will be bright
as
the garnets round your neck, as those buried
with
an Anglo-Saxon king in a ship at Sutton Hoo,
and
the ring of words will carry far into the night.
Myra Schneider
|
last
update:
e-mail
Myra
web-site
Myra
at Desperado
Literature
Second
Light
(on
poetry p f)
The
Poetry School
and in
the
shop
...
collections
and book-length poems:
"Circling
the Core",
2008,
Enitharmon;
"Becoming",
2007, Second Light Publications
"Writing
My Way Through Cancer",
2003,
Jessica Kingsley
and Enitharmon:
"Multiplying
the Moon", 2003
"Insisting
on Yellow", 2000
"The
Panic Bird", 1998
"Exits",
1994
"Cathedral
of Birds"
"Cat
Therapy"
"Crossing
Point"
and Continuum
Books,
Writing Your Self
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