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first through the ribbon

andrew delapruch Avatar    Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled first through the ribbon which was written by poet andrew delapruch. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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first through the ribbon

when upon grasping in the fridge
for a bottle of hot sauce
amidst the myriad of styles
collected for the taste,
her/his hand grasped hold of a
teriyaki hot sauce,
something of which s/he him/herself
thought that s/he’d created
one early eve,
upon returning from work
with a hungry stomach &
nothing but frozen potatoes to
microwave & just a little butter
to be had---
whence administering the cayenne 
sauce, of which Frank’s was all 
that roamed free in the vacant
box of ice,
s/he’d chosen to mix it with the soy sauce
left over from an attempt at a 
Schezwan dish a few nights earlier &
in retrospect, the taste was
something that s/he swore s/he’d repeat,
given the right circumstances &
the right desire.

when s/he was younger &
tinkering in her/his dad’s garage, s/he
nailed two leather straps to two corresponding
planks of wood, then
slipping her booted feet in,
s/he got atop a snow hill & slid down
with her/his weight a few feet,
before falling face down in the snow
that had not yet really packed in &
alas,
s/he didn’t let the light bulb glow further,
instead, discovering with the rest of us later
that this invention would come to be known as
the “snowboard” &
that “snowboarding” would become a zillion dollar
industry---
so,
one can imagine that when s/he saw that
some company who makes hot sauces,
had already put two & two together,
mixing soy sauce with a cayenne based sauce,
s/he was quite dissatisfied to say the least &
after unscrewing the cap, licking the top to check
the taste,
the anger built up inside &
s/he him/herself felt that s/he was one step away 
from smashing the bottle on the kitchen floor
in a fit of rage,
because s/he’d have to go on working the rest of
his/her life,
when joe/jen schmo would get to live out 
the rest of their lives
sipping Mai Tais, greased up in coconut oil on
some beach---
but then that light bulb did kick in, 
if not better late than never
&
s/he did not smash the bottle,
because after all,
it was goddamned tasty.  

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