Sunday Scribbling #157: Celebrate
—Morning light, found poems, a good book, and Biff: all conspiring for celebration—SERVE IMMEDIATELY
I was in the Panko crumbs when Sylvio the Sushi Guy copped to my excessive exoticism.
“Remove to warm plates. Over them as you do.”
“Over them as you do? What the hell does that mean?”
“It’s a found poem. Go with it. It’s better than toilet paper on the shopping list.”
“Oh, so we can expect toilet paper later in this lame story?”
“Poem. Found poem. And yes.”
“Could we just get it over with now?”
“Get what over with?”
“The toilet paper.”
“Remove to warm plates with toilet paper? I don’t think so. Sylvio would not be happy.”
“Where exactly was this ‘poem’ found?”
“The Tobin. Fiction aisle. Safran Foer, Jonathan. Everything is Illuminated.”
“Tobin? We don’t call it the Tobin. Tobin can shill all his megabucks our way, we still don’t call it the Tobin. Oakwell biblioteca she be. What do you mean, Safran Foer, Jonathan?”
“In the book. The ‘poem’ was in the book.”
“Somebody’s shopping list is in the book and that’s your poem?”
Smiling: “Better than toilet paper.”
“I’m not even going there.”
“Touché.”
“Charmed, I’m sure.”
At which point the lemon juice bubbled up into the meaty oil, and we were at a crossroads: Food Network or late night?
“Food Network. I’ve seen Emeril get downright salacious. Better than simulations.”
“Then pour over the steaks and serve immediately with the mash.”
“Mosh?”
“Mash. We’re doing Food Network.”
“Mash.”
“Three cans white beans, Panko crumbs, parm cheese.”
“I think the last two are for the fish.”
“Fish?”
“Fish. It’s on the list. Between the lemon and the Panko.”
“Before the t.p. and the storage bags.”
“Before. Yes. Before.”
“You wouldn’t consider me exotic?”
“I might if your name were Panko.”
“I fear a song coming on…with koto, no doubt…”
“I cured my yellow teeth,
Lost between the evil and the dare—”
CODA
Sue was dressed in white, pouring coffee into the coffee urns. Khaki baseball cap firmly in place.
Biff, in his wooly whites, galumphed: “Sue! You’re wearing white!”
Sue, a bristly coddler, ceded to Biff’s passion for the obvious.
“It was cold this morning.”
“Ha! Cold this morning!” Biff’s other passion was repetition.
Biff glugged on his bottle of orange juice and announced: “I recommend your coffee to all my friends when I see them—the best coffee in the land!”
Biff’s annunciation lit the room with a light more than the morning’s light. It fell on all the inhabitants of the tiny café: the hobo in the corner with his coffee and papers, the blonde (newly blonde) woman with her pound of coffee cake, the man in the other corner in his jeweled hat, the two runners and their breakfast tacos, the grumpy retired bank exec in his grumpy retired clothes.
Biff glugged again and his wooly white wings seemed to glisten.
Hobo stood in the afterglow and renewed his cup.
Newly brushed yellow crumbs from her khaki lap.
Jeweled laughed—and almost cried—into his book.
The two tacos were all the more eggy in their eggishness. As were the owners.
With new eyes, Grumpy eyed Newly as if she just might be Snow White to his dour elfin self.
And one of them went home to write about it.
Labels: koto dreams
posted by murat11 at 8:06 PM
14 Comments:
The sequel: Biff was as repetitious as a Mahi Mahi, but less inclined to Panko.
:-d
“Somebody’s shopping list is in the book and that’s your poem?”- I so chuckled at this, for I once someones blog sidebar of post titles and thought it was a poem....
And one of them went home to write about it.- I wonder who this was ;-)
Fun read, I felt like I was in the corner of a cafe trying to read my book but had to keep looking up to get bits of the conversation.
ALT: Biff fluffing in the Panko is a scary thought, scarier than even Emeril, in anything.
Ms Lee: That sidebar probably was a poem - a list poem, at least, found for sure.
Biff's conversation was loud enough that no one had to look up: his boulders tumbled down on us, whether we were looking up or not.
Good to hear from you, O Keeper of the Gates.
Such a fun read! Chuckling over it..
SS: The Red Tent
A fun found poem - a movie, in fact!
I'm lost. Could someone direct me to the chocolate. I feel there should be chocolate.
I'm afraid I didn't understand a word, but it sounded as if someone was having fun! LOL!
Thank you, GT: I'm glad for the chuckles.
Tumblewords: How about you direct the found movie? And, I'm with the Jay, the movie version will definitely need chocolate.
Jay: Welcome to your sassy, lost, choco-la-tee-dah self! I'm with you about the chocolate. The list was probably a lenten one: there was no splurge on it at all.
Mmmm... breakfast at the Dream Cafe. And could I have some of those egg tacos, please? Plenty of salsa, on the side, a cup of the best coffee in town, and as much of Biff as you can spare? I like this, waking up on Sunday morning to the poetry of Panko.
Anno: Guilty confession: Biff comes across much better on the page than my experience of him in the cafe. Pardon my political incorrectness, but he usually irritates the shit out of me. Still, his "best coffee in the land" comment was, I thought, pure genius. Who says "land"? I loved it, wrote it down before I skedaddled.
Huevos con papas for the tacos, I believe they were. Chipotle salsa on the side, perhaps?
Ah whenever you write of food, it makes me drool for real tex-mex, and purples and oranges and yellows - real cafes, not just restaurants. Oh and I miss the smell of tex-mex food.
jsd: What, no Taqueria Jaliscos in VT? Shame on those Green Mountaineers! Speaking of color, get yourself a good paella recipe and go to town!
Actually, here's a great recipe right here:
http://annos-place.blogspot.com/2005/11/paella.html
With the necessary vegetarian accommodations, paella has become a twice-weekly staple.
Chow/ciao.
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