Saturday, February 17, 2024

He's No Emperor

Well, we have to eat,
even as genocide, rapes,
atomic arsenals, and pious
bigotry persist, destroy, so

I roast beets. With a paring 
knife, I peel off dull hides,
reveal purple fiber of the roots.
Purple ink stains my fingers.

Has anyone painted with beet
juice? Chopped into small
pieces, the beets go in a
hot oven. When they're roasted

soft, I take them out, dribble
honey and shake salt on them,
serve with pasta and a simple
marinara sauce & a green salad,

plus a shared slice of a quick
raisin oat-bread I baked. I like
cooking for me and my wife.
It's a good thing, basic,

necessary. And about all
the influence I have
on the world, for as things
stand, I'm no emperor. 

hans ostrom 2024

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