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RWP #102..prompt was childhood memory of food
FEAST FOR GRANDPA
FEAST FOR GRANDPA
March 1955
no dinner bell rang
the bellys are ready
ignoring the cries of the mourners
forgetting the corpse
overthrowing all the tears
drinking from his hat of memories
vodka
eating homemade bread
from the the bowl of his Russia
borsch
dancing the Cossack dance
to the balalaika beat
vodka
eating pirogies
from his lost hat
celebrating his adventures
slipping out of Russia with two frozen apples
from Odessa to Saskatoon
peering through a gypsy window
with an imagination of velvet roses
with an endless appetite for the new fix
forgetting the killer who was a poet
rather to be poor than famous
dancing the Cossack dance
vodka
eating dill pickles
from some Bolshevik jar
dancing the Cossack dance
to the past poetry
of Alex Pushkin
vodka
sour cream with everything
Russian
everyone dancing
to the bayan beat
craving food and jazz
vodka
cheese
cabbage rolls
beef stroganoff
more bread
more borsch
vodka
remembering his Socialist thoughts
liberal ideas
his love for his homestead
his family
his zest for life
his love of music
poetry
sour cream
tasting the food he no longer could eat
vodka
farewell dedyshka.
6 comments:
So,you've got a little bit of Ruski in you.Why am I not suprised?Stolichnaya,borscht,stroganoff and lots of flaming passion are wonderful things.Our grandparents were an interesting lot.I'm glad we love and remember them.
A great and powerful remembrance.
Ah, those funeral parties...such memories of our loved ones, and you did a wonderful job with the memories you have!
Wayne, I like the way this blends the regret over loss with the joy of celebration, which is ultimately the balancing equation of life, here with great personal details.
Sorry I'm so late looking in here. I love the way you use vodka like punctuation here. Memory memory memory vodka. Memory memory memory vodka. A wonderful memorial to a memorial.
Well, it's touching, though some ideas sound a bit... hem... commonplace.
Konstantin.
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