S-Salmon patties were daddy’s special dish;
A-as kids, we would beg him to make fish knish.
L-Last week, my brother arrived on appeal
M-midst my adventure to fix this same meal.
O-Oddly enough the croquettes turned out grand;
N-not to brag, for bro had given a hand.
P-Plainly peeved, my youngest turned up his nose
A-and so, my brother a wager proposed.
T-Try one, eat it all, I’ll give you a prize -
T-those new earphones on which you've got your eyes.
I- It worked though a trick accomplished with guile,
E-easing one down with ketchup brought a smile.
S-Seconds, his choice, made the meal/deal worthwhile.
Succulent, enticing, blushing red fish.
Assaulting my tongue, a welcoming wish.
Lovingly laid low on saffron rice bed.
Magnificent morsel, with garlic bread.
Opening eager eyes, anxious to sate,
Nothing short of heaven lies on my plate.
Wear a salmon on your head,
the wild Orca said,
make it a big chinook
or perhaps a steelhead.
It's very avant-garde;
it makes a fashion dent,
and kittens think the smell
is heaven sent.
A salmon hat is a cultural fad displayed by orcas, where they wear dead salmon upon their heads. It was first observed in 1987 with southern resident orcas and was a relatively short-lived phenomenon. In 2024, the behaviour was observed again with orcas in Puget Sound. The motivations for salmon hats are unclear, but other orcas will mimic the behaviour once it begins. One hypothesis is that orcas wear salmon hats to display high food availability, or that the same individuals that originally started the trend revitalized it. It may also indicate playfulness. ~Wikipedia
Salmon pink horizon beguiles as I towel dry
Upon a muted canvas morphs hues at sunset.
The lake decants of its waders and pontoons.
Mirrored waters tranquil—a soothing elixir.
Tidy up and make camp for the night.
The campsite invited blissful slumber.
Natural waters reflected frond umbrellas.
An artificial lake at once sequestered.
Fuchsia shades spackled across dusky skies.
All had surfaced—I dove into a lost horizon.
The world in black and blue,
no visible outline, the colors
blur. Headlights bright red,
and the people covered
in smoke as I stand in the back-
alley surrounded by old graffiti
stains and a half eaten tuna fish
sandwich. The alley cats
devour the carcass leaving
the bones and eyes behind.
I look at the eyes and I see
my mother pan frying
batches of leftover
salmon, a once in awhile
treat, then back to smelly
tuna daily. I give my mom
credit, her cooking skills
mask the awful aroma just
enough for me to eat with
ease. I still wonder what
mystery meat I ate back
in high school, looked like
tuna, smelled like beef but
tasted like chicken. I get up
and leave to a corner
bodega shop where they sell
beer and passable pepperoni
pizza for a late night snack.
Then I chill at the coin laundry
shop next door, I should’ve
brought earphones with me.
snaps cowgirl Indian boyfriend
The sound of buffalo meat on her teeth,
Taste the smell of sleep,
Cannabis wafting,
Chew the diamond, steal the slipper,
Call the captain and skinny dipper.
The palm fronds climb.
Squaw walks whiskey hills
Eyes cracked wide shut
Gripped by the hunger of a world,
chasing visions
The moon bleeds through the window
The stars hum a song of youth.
Supreme satisfaction
Salmon with scrambled eggs,
Spiced, for breakfast or brunch.
Seafood salmon chowder
Simply superb, for lunch.
Sharing salmon en croûte,
Served Christmas Eve, with punch.
12 / 13 / 2024.
Salmon fight their way
Upstream, work the last strength
Spawn and die there.
Salmon thought he had a chance
He felt it was his lucky day
The giant would grab someone else
enormous polar bear almost snatched Salmon's sister, so he
Jumped into bear's clutches
willing to sacrifice himself to save her
The old stream, frozen
The last salmon, under ice
Last bird: going home
Sunshine was pouring
in the wake of black shadows
Tulips clashed with noon
shining, shining, like full moon
Pink orange hues, like sunset
Midday quite breathless
when wandering wind has gone
from fragrance and fire
It'll return later, too late
when sweet petals have folded
salmon swim sideways
while nature does take its course
to start of each branch
What I had luckily caught
One exorbitantly bought,
Long after I had it brought:
A salmon by a crowd sought
And for it bitterly fought...
Many bidders voicing their thought
Nearly making it a sport,
Save the one who had been taught
To huge sums pay on a spot
So as to remain on top,
As things become goddamned hot
To Plain Delay not a lot
And fast leave before he’s shot
spawning salmon leap
hungry bears feast greedily
cold raging river
What are you doing besides being a cat? Can you do anything other then that? I ask Josh this on many a day and he always responds in his concise meowy way. If I get on the floor with my yoga mat and start doing poses to stretch out my back, Joshua joins me in cow and cat. When I sit to meditate Josh is in my lap, he thinks it's great. While sitting on the couch to catch up on the news, Joshua's always beside me just taking a snooze. If dinner is salmon or chicken curry, Joshua comes in a hurry. When I sing his Joshua song, Joshua cuts in and sings a long. At night as I go to bed, he purrs so loudly by my head. What are you doing besides being a cat? It's quite ok, just keep doing that.
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