Selected Poems
Kartoffelkloesse (for Francis)
The last time great grandmother made kartoffelkloesse
She gathered her grand children around the ricer.
The cold glittering metal grinder locked to the table
like a loaded grenade launching mortar
with a worn crooked wooden handed crank.
Children took turns pushing potatoes down and turning the handle around.
Watch white potatoes ground into rice, worm to a colorful flowered rimmed bowl'
Most lost interest and abandon half-hearted balls of potato, wobbly on the serving plate.
Great grandma sighed something German sounding somewhere this side of being shanty.
One lad stayed and happily finished the job, knowing this lesson
might never happen again. He remembered and recorded each step.
Four hands carefully dropped dumplings, plopped into a boiling pot.
Both still hope in rising and teach another generation to float.
She gathered her grand children around the ricer.
The cold glittering metal grinder locked to the table
like a loaded grenade launching mortar
with a worn crooked wooden handed crank.
Children took turns pushing potatoes down and turning the handle around.
Watch white potatoes ground into rice, worm to a colorful flowered rimmed bowl'
Most lost interest and abandon half-hearted balls of potato, wobbly on the serving plate.
Great grandma sighed something German sounding somewhere this side of being shanty.
One lad stayed and happily finished the job, knowing this lesson
might never happen again. He remembered and recorded each step.
Four hands carefully dropped dumplings, plopped into a boiling pot.
Both still hope in rising and teach another generation to float.