Today's poem is by Jane Zwart

How to Eat Like a King
       

To eat like a king, my granddad said,
you have to strive like a slave. He knew
nothing, of course, of kings or slaves.
But he ate the cores of apples, and
he lapped potato from the vorticist
oars on the beater with better relish
than ever I licked them clean of batter.
Which is to say that he, knowing nothing
is sweeter than a hand pie that flakes
pastry into a shearling collar
infused with the smell of cold,
that no meat is as rich as the peach
eaten in thin mountain air, knew
more than me. He understood,
that the weary can glory in a sandwich
weeping peanut butter mortar,
that to feast one needs mainly hunger

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Copyright © 2024 Jane Zwart All rights reserved
from Shō Poetry Journal
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission