See You in the Dark: Poems

Ars Poetica, or Soup

31 ARS POETICA, OR SOUP Dedicated to the puffy man at the party given to honor the writers, who said, upon discovering I had children, Oh, so, you’re just a housewife who writes. Thirty years ago, that was. Maybe today he’d know better. To be a housewife who writes, start with soup. Choose the proper pot, the right shape to embrace your soup. Heavy or light, tall or squat, the pot will determine how the soup develops. A pot with a lid—soup needs privacy to grow. Begin with a meaty bone, for structure, then turn your thoughts to water. Water is the idiom of the soup, whether thick or a clear broth. Water: the music the ingredients will dance to, the medium they’ll swim in, tasteless to start, but soon absorbing the flavor of carrots, parsnips, celery, leeks, turnips, kale, or mushrooms, to be added sequentially— first the hard, later the soft, some chopped up fine, some left in chunks. Consider the feeling you wish to achieve upon the tongue. Stir the mixture with a wooden spoon. Watch it coalesce. You may require some unanticipated ingredient. Hunt that ingredient out, 32 no matter how far you must travel. Watch your soup at all times. Do not desert it for other endeavors. Wait for the dazzling moment when it resembles soup, deserves the esteemed name, soup. Near the end, add spices, not mere salt, but fearlessly the more exotic, curry, coriander, cardamom, or tarragon, to awaken your soup, like a god’s breath infused in clay. Now the soup will want to chart its own nature and destiny. Now the power relations between you and your soup become delicate, demanding negotiation, give and take. Yield, when you can, to the wisdom of the soup. As it approaches its consummation remove the stripped bone, the original armature, an awkward procedure but necessary, in the service of the soup. While it cools, straighten up the house to make it ready. Sweep, dust, scrub, but not too carefully. Soup will not thrive in a sterile atmosphere. Summon the guests to the table and serve your soup. ...