Our Chef Is Delicious
When we first found him,
he was a poor creature who couldn't handle a paring knife,
but that year in Tuscany did him well.
He returned a devout palate.
A man of peculiar desire.
Please note, he must be garnished with mint;
chop finely, so, when rare, the meat bathes
the cut leaf.
It was a long day when our chef committed himself
to the fineries of flesh—
the first drop of blood crowned the shaved
the bouillabaisse thickened.
Loving the body for the body alone is bitter.
He knew this, yes. He always thought parsley
the sprig of amateurs. At high temperatures
his flesh will emit a faint, distinguished odor,
but this is common
for roasts of his nature. Add Chianti just after the boil.
That his lips were cracked with salt is no cause for concern—
the first measure of longing.
Open this. Breathe a short while before we eat.
Copyright © 2007 by David Welch. “Our Chef Is Delicious” originally appeared in Pleiades. Used with permission of the author.
David Welch is the author of Everyone Who Is Dead (Spork Press, 2018) and It Is Such a Good Thing to Be in Love with You (GreenTower Press, 2015). He lives in Chicago.
Date Published: 2018-08-24
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/our-chef-delicious