Love Potion

Deep fried everything, buttered biscuits, hot grits with syrup,
black-eyed peas, corn bread,
bacon drippings collected in coffee cans
used to grease the skillet for potato cakes, flap jacks,
or the rabbit cornered by the coon dog now snoozing under the magnolia tree.

The skinny fitness expert on T.V. who drinks grass and kale
says she will drop dead if served
liver gizzard gravy, sides of collards greens, okra, gumbo
or any form of souls in a pot –
shrimp, mountain oysters, or clams baked in the sand.

Music in the kitchen comes from
Grandma with a .22 in her apron pocket and
a flask in hand that gives her lemonade a kick.
She serves an old time religion deep dish by
breaking the oat loaves with catfish and turning water into tea –
the sweet kind steeped on the porch in gallon sized pickle jars.

Home’s food is desired even if only to taste love’s memory –
how the faithful do multiply
when fed food that arrests the heart in an ecstasy of flavor
that surely makes the Almighty sing
because His children are meant to live forever
or at least through dessert.