After The I Hate to Cook Cookbook (1961) How scattered I am: post-spouse, with company coming; in Florida in my earthquake gown, in my eelskin slingbacks and electric mink stole. I tried to make puff paste with sweating hands; butter in the KitchenAid, covered in Everglaze; apocalyptic looking and no one to stall. Now egret feathers and alligators and gas are gone; polar fur coats are all vintage or bottle jobs and the corn is crawling even in the Bracken and the Glades. But I'm up and dressed, at least; I make of this doctored lambskin a dish of myself: big hair, lippy, a little bit lush, maybe even horny. I'm going to breathe in and replate the take-out again, shake cocktails. I'm going to spread swampy, an idea, a mangrove of the air.
About this Poem
"An earthquake gown was designed to keep one warm during the London earthquakes of 1750. What better to wear to one's first solo dinner party in Florida, post-1950s, post-divorce, post-climate change, post-cooking, post-eating, post-everything?"
—Karen Leona Anderson
Karen Leona Anderson
Karen Leona Anderson is the author of Receipt (Milkweed Editions, 2016) and Punish Honey (Carolina Wren Press, 2009). She teaches at St. Mary’s College of Maryland.
Date Published: 2014-03-25
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/company