Sauce Composed of Duckfat, Thyme and Periwinkle Sprigs
Sauce Composed of Duckfat, Thyme and Periwinkle Sprigs
Cooper’s Hawk and a small army
of yellow-throated vireos – such things should never
share the same space. As one’s artificial lover
(or part-time lover, potential lover, some date)
glides demurely to the restroom, hyper-self-
conscious of the way she is walking, her demurity, and you
dip the trident of an escargot silverfork
into the sauce she lauds with a shiver, you might
cringe at the thought of hawks and small birds
slicing similar air with disparate intentions:
casual, the hawk, in the midst of unsuccessful, furious assault
of spices or songbirds. Soon you will see the most accurate
analogies are lost to candle wax, shimmering in rivulets,
sharing thread with the white rig tablecloth.
And waiters, you’ll say, awaiting her return, you must be
patient, you’ll insist with a wave and finger which begs
another minute, balling up a napkin, checking your watch,
turning stones into ocean with your teeth. Tear the flesh
from a log of rye. Settle into the anxiety of indifference.
Yawn; stretch. When you tap the teeth of the fork on the table
there will be a sort of singing. Step out of your loafers and dance.
Jim Davis is a graduate of Knox College and an MFA candidate at Northwestern University. Jim lives, writes, and paints in Chicago, where he edits North Chicago Review. His work has received Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominations, and has appeared in Seneca Review, Adirondack Review, The Midwest Quarterly, and Columbia Literary Review, among others. Jim is the author of two collections, Assumption (Unbound Content, 2013) and Earthmover (Unbound Content, 2013). In addition to the arts, Jim is a teacher, coach, and international semi-professional football player. www.jimdavispoetry.com
