Which is always sticky rice Which always needs generous amounts of coconut milk Sugar tempered with salt Sometimes a spoonful of lye A wrap of smoky leaf Which is the way to conjure those mixed undertones— Fog? Tears? Pensive uncertain desire? Regret Most certainly regret And that variety well known to mothers In any case Bring everything to a boil in a pot which has seen better days Stir from the core of your gut Don't let your arm fall asleep The right consistency a holding together— Each grain plumpsoft doubles Allowing this closeness in the name of sweet When something is good it might be described as having made you forget your name Forget the ache Sometimes glutinous is mistaken for gluttonous— A hunger that won't stop until something bursts It takes time to thicken anything And mere moments to burn
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.