crock pot jambalaya
there are so many metaphors
built into my six-quart crock pot.
So many meanings, of family, of future, of home and of goodness,
that sometimes I am overwhelmed with its bigness
and feel quite small in comparison.
Right now, I am just me
I may have another mouth or two to share a meal
on days when our Free is the same
but as a rule
I am still I.
But still I love to cook for many.
I love the whispers of future moments
that are crouching inside
--not to mention the prospect of not cooking for a few more days,
as I am nearly 23, and still fall victim to sloth
though my body is still lithe and full.
It is also a sort of magic,
to fold away ingredients and
come back later to see the sum
of its parts.
A visceral sort of secrecy that I cannot hope to understand
but can only take advantage of.
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