油麦菜和火腿肠:或账单到期时该怎么办,以及菠萝椰子蛋糕,以及下辈子》,以及顺从的行为

Callaloo Pub Date : 2024-08-29 DOI:10.1353/cal.2024.a935727
Diamond Forde
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Free the greens from their bitter spines, twine them 'round your finger, fret the rugged ends—your Daughters' heads: edges leafing their box braids already, dark hairs wilding like vines—you twist the hairlets, sulfur-handed, a tired thumb drumming their roots. Pray they bloom but not too soon.</p> </li> <li> <p>2. Dice the onion squinting near the sill. Citrine-silky, the onion flirts, an acrid bustle from its bulbous skirt. Its sharp sting, Vidalia lye—see anyone but you in its blade-worn eye.</p> </li> <li> <p>3. Start a pot no deeper than an empty pocket. Sauté the onion—clot of grease leaping in the heat. Ham hocks &amp; their jointed knots sizzle drippings. Pray the gas guzzles long enough for the stove to wreathe with heat.</p> </li> <li> <p>4. Your Daughters ask when they'll see you again. Do not tell them you hook each minimum-wage minute with the sharp end of their frowns.</p> </li> <li> <p>5. Combine the collards &amp; hocks, the chicken stock, the vinegar &amp; spice.</p> </li> <li> <p>6. Twice, you dined in the light of home's every candle. The Daughters, bowed heads flamed with wildness, held vigil for the sweat stringing their necks.</p> </li> <li> <p>7. Braise the collards two hours. Holler for your Daughters pretending the patched toe of their socks struts a stiletto. The borough broadways in midday's spotlight. Who doesn't want to smell Italian leather?</p> </li> <li> <p>8. Whenever the collards' iron perfumes pennies in the broth, measure the greens in heaps. Eat off whatever you have too much of: paper plates, the divet on the couch where you used to sleep, eat from the dog's ALPO-dusted bowl, eat from their school shoes, rubber peeling back from the soles. <strong>[End Page 80]</strong></p> </li> </ol> <h2>PINEAPPLE-COCONUT CAKE</h2> <blockquote> <p>why didn't I celebrate you that night : when my cousins leaned across your nursing-home bed to paint your mouth bright pink : who'd know this'd be the last time I could count each opal tooth : pineapple bright as a beachside : tinned for home, aluminum hum still clung to the fruit : on birthdays, you ate the biggest slice of cake : your indefinite origins : doctors unsure if you'd been born July first or fourth : four days you'd eat cake then wait for the country to circle its bonfires, its billowing grills—fireworks flitting their fiery frills : <em>feels like they celebrating me</em> / <em>with me</em> you said : &amp; though you never read poetry, maybe a Clifton song mambas through all us : so strong, I might forget the shape of the hurt I nursed : seeing you for the first time in years : guilt goosed in our necks : none of us loving you enough : to home you : but you had new places to be anyway: your spirit freighted its prayer boat through the phone wires while I, standing in front of you, went hungry for the sweet treat : your smile mashed into doughy cheeks : half-grimace : as if you reigned, even, the corners of your mouth : let that hunger carry me anywhere : the hood of my parents' hatchback, where the two of us leaned back &amp; scooped with plastic spoons the coconut flaking our lips : celebratory stars smoking their multicolored spokes in the night : LOOKDOWN : but the voice is a wish inside me : I dare not : your mouth, smudged into sloppy lipstick—pink as the throat of GOD—bursts through. <strong>[End Page 81]</strong></p> </blockquote> <h2>IN YOUR NEXT LIFE</h2> <p><span>I wish you barefoot in a grass field as beetles scuttle under the sun-splintered</span><span>trunk of a pawpaw tree I wish you autumn as the nearby leaves blush</span><span>into red dregs, &amp; the mulch, night-coddled, feeds the marrow</span><span>of the roots sugar-heavy...</span></p> </p>","PeriodicalId":501435,"journal":{"name":"Callaloo","volume":null,"pages":null},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2024-08-29","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Collard Greens & Ham Hocks: Or What to Do When the Bills Are Due, and: Pineapple-Coconut Cake, and: In Your Next Life, and: Acts of Submission\",\"authors\":\"Diamond Forde\",\"doi\":\"10.1353/cal.2024.a935727\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"<span><span>In lieu of</span> an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:</span>\\n<p> <ul> <li><!-- html_title --> Collard Greens &amp; Ham Hocks: Or What to Do When the Bills Are Due, and: Pineapple-Coconut Cake, and: In Your Next Life, and: Acts of Submission <!-- /html_title --></li> <li> Diamond Forde (bio) </li> </ul> <h2>COLLARD GREENS &amp; HAM HOCKS</h2> <h3>Or What to Do When the Bills Are Due</h3> <h4>INGREDIENTS</h4> <p>3 lbs. collard greens fanned like money</p> <p>2 tbsp bacon fat pearled in a jar</p> <p>1 onion</p> <p>3 ham hocks cleft from rickety knees</p> <p>4 cups chicken stock</p> <p>1 dash of Lawry's &amp; an equal amount of salt</p> <p>1 big pinch of store-brand pepper</p> <p>1 splash vinegar</p> <p>your deepest pot</p> <h4>DIRECTIONS</h4> <ol> <li> <p>1. 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Combine the collards &amp; hocks, the chicken stock, the vinegar &amp; spice.</p> </li> <li> <p>6. Twice, you dined in the light of home's every candle. The Daughters, bowed heads flamed with wildness, held vigil for the sweat stringing their necks.</p> </li> <li> <p>7. Braise the collards two hours. Holler for your Daughters pretending the patched toe of their socks struts a stiletto. The borough broadways in midday's spotlight. Who doesn't want to smell Italian leather?</p> </li> <li> <p>8. Whenever the collards' iron perfumes pennies in the broth, measure the greens in heaps. 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引用次数: 0

摘要

以下是内容的简要摘录,以代替摘要: 高丽菜和火腿:或账单到期时该怎么办,以及:菠萝椰子蛋糕菠萝椰子蛋糕,以及下辈子》,以及高丽菜和火腿肠:或者当账单到期时该怎么办 材料 3 磅高丽菜,像钱一样翻炒 2 汤匙培根油,在罐子里腌制成珍珠状 1 个洋葱 3 根火腿肠,从佝偻的膝盖上劈开 4 杯鸡汤 1 少许 Lawry's & 等量的盐 1 大撮商店品牌的胡椒粉 1 泼醋,你最深的锅 做法 1.洗净菜串。将蔬菜从苦涩的刺中解救出来,缠绕在手指上,搓揉崎岖不平的末端--你女儿的头:边缘已经编成了方形辫子,黑发像藤蔓一样疯长--你用硫磺手捻着小穗子,疲惫的拇指敲打着它们的根部。祈祷她们开花,但不要太早。 2.眯着眼在窗台边切洋葱。馨香的洋葱在调情,球状的裙摆发出刺鼻的喧闹声。它尖锐的刺痛,维达利亚葱的刀锋般的眼睛里,除了你,谁也看不见。 3.起一个不比空口袋深的锅。炒洋葱--油脂在热浪中跳跃。火腿蹄膀和火腿肠,它们的关节在嗞嗞作响。祈祷煤气喷出的时间足够长,让炉子冒出热气。 4.你的女儿们问什么时候能再见到你。不要告诉她们,你用她们皱眉的锋利一端勾住了最低工资的每一分钟。 5.将高丽菜、鸡腿、鸡汤、醋和香料混合在一起。 6.你曾两次在家中的烛光下用餐。女儿们低着头,脸上洋溢着野性的火焰,为脖子上的汗水守夜。 7.把高丽菜炖两个小时。为你的女儿们欢呼,假装她们袜子上的补丁趾头趾高气扬。正午的聚光灯下,区里的宽阔大道。谁不想闻闻意大利皮革的味道? 8.每当炖菜的铁水在肉汤中散发出香味时,就把青菜分成几堆计量。吃掉你吃得太多的东西:纸盘子、你以前睡过的沙发上的垫子、狗碗里的 ALPO 涂料、鞋底上剥落的橡胶。[菠萝椰子蛋糕 那天晚上我为什么没有为你庆祝:当我的表兄弟们靠在你疗养院的床上,把你的嘴涂成鲜艳的粉红色时:谁知道这是我最后一次能数清每一颗乳白色的牙齿:菠萝像海边的菠萝一样鲜艳:罐装回家的水果上还残留着铝的嗡嗡声:过生日时,你吃最大的一块蛋糕:你的身世不明:医生们不确定你是七月一日还是七月四日出生:四天里,你吃完蛋糕,然后等待全国各地的篝火和烟花燃起:感觉他们在为我庆祝/你和我一起说:& 虽然你从不读诗,但也许一首克利夫顿的曼巴歌曲贯穿了我们所有人:如此强烈,我可能会忘记我所受的伤害的形状:多年来第一次见到你:内疚在我们的脖子上膨胀:我们都不够爱你:以你为家:但无论如何,你有新的地方要去:你的精神通过电话线运送它的祈祷船,而我,站在你面前,饥饿的甜食:你的微笑捣成面团的脸颊:半咧嘴:好像你统治,甚至,你的嘴角:让饥饿把我带到任何地方:在我父母的掀背车的引擎盖上,我们两个人靠在一起;用塑料勺子舀起椰子,剥落在我们的嘴唇上:庆祝的星星在夜色中冒着五颜六色的辐条:向下看:但那声音是我内心的愿望:我不敢:你的嘴,涂成邋遢的口红--粉红色,就像上帝的喉咙--迸发出来。[在你的下辈子,我希望你赤脚走在草地上,甲虫在被阳光洒满的棕榈树干下窜来窜去 我希望你在秋天,附近的树叶红成了红色的渣滓;地膜在夜色中裹挟着糖分,滋养着树根的骨髓......
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Collard Greens & Ham Hocks: Or What to Do When the Bills Are Due, and: Pineapple-Coconut Cake, and: In Your Next Life, and: Acts of Submission
In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

  • Collard Greens & Ham Hocks: Or What to Do When the Bills Are Due, and: Pineapple-Coconut Cake, and: In Your Next Life, and: Acts of Submission
  • Diamond Forde (bio)

COLLARD GREENS & HAM HOCKS

Or What to Do When the Bills Are Due

INGREDIENTS

3 lbs. collard greens fanned like money

2 tbsp bacon fat pearled in a jar

1 onion

3 ham hocks cleft from rickety knees

4 cups chicken stock

1 dash of Lawry's & an equal amount of salt

1 big pinch of store-brand pepper

1 splash vinegar

your deepest pot

DIRECTIONS

  1. 1. Ablute the bunches. Free the greens from their bitter spines, twine them 'round your finger, fret the rugged ends—your Daughters' heads: edges leafing their box braids already, dark hairs wilding like vines—you twist the hairlets, sulfur-handed, a tired thumb drumming their roots. Pray they bloom but not too soon.

  2. 2. Dice the onion squinting near the sill. Citrine-silky, the onion flirts, an acrid bustle from its bulbous skirt. Its sharp sting, Vidalia lye—see anyone but you in its blade-worn eye.

  3. 3. Start a pot no deeper than an empty pocket. Sauté the onion—clot of grease leaping in the heat. Ham hocks & their jointed knots sizzle drippings. Pray the gas guzzles long enough for the stove to wreathe with heat.

  4. 4. Your Daughters ask when they'll see you again. Do not tell them you hook each minimum-wage minute with the sharp end of their frowns.

  5. 5. Combine the collards & hocks, the chicken stock, the vinegar & spice.

  6. 6. Twice, you dined in the light of home's every candle. The Daughters, bowed heads flamed with wildness, held vigil for the sweat stringing their necks.

  7. 7. Braise the collards two hours. Holler for your Daughters pretending the patched toe of their socks struts a stiletto. The borough broadways in midday's spotlight. Who doesn't want to smell Italian leather?

  8. 8. Whenever the collards' iron perfumes pennies in the broth, measure the greens in heaps. Eat off whatever you have too much of: paper plates, the divet on the couch where you used to sleep, eat from the dog's ALPO-dusted bowl, eat from their school shoes, rubber peeling back from the soles. [End Page 80]

PINEAPPLE-COCONUT CAKE

why didn't I celebrate you that night : when my cousins leaned across your nursing-home bed to paint your mouth bright pink : who'd know this'd be the last time I could count each opal tooth : pineapple bright as a beachside : tinned for home, aluminum hum still clung to the fruit : on birthdays, you ate the biggest slice of cake : your indefinite origins : doctors unsure if you'd been born July first or fourth : four days you'd eat cake then wait for the country to circle its bonfires, its billowing grills—fireworks flitting their fiery frills : feels like they celebrating me / with me you said : & though you never read poetry, maybe a Clifton song mambas through all us : so strong, I might forget the shape of the hurt I nursed : seeing you for the first time in years : guilt goosed in our necks : none of us loving you enough : to home you : but you had new places to be anyway: your spirit freighted its prayer boat through the phone wires while I, standing in front of you, went hungry for the sweet treat : your smile mashed into doughy cheeks : half-grimace : as if you reigned, even, the corners of your mouth : let that hunger carry me anywhere : the hood of my parents' hatchback, where the two of us leaned back & scooped with plastic spoons the coconut flaking our lips : celebratory stars smoking their multicolored spokes in the night : LOOKDOWN : but the voice is a wish inside me : I dare not : your mouth, smudged into sloppy lipstick—pink as the throat of GOD—bursts through. [End Page 81]

IN YOUR NEXT LIFE

I wish you barefoot in a grass field as beetles scuttle under the sun-splinteredtrunk of a pawpaw tree I wish you autumn as the nearby leaves blushinto red dregs, & the mulch, night-coddled, feeds the marrowof the roots sugar-heavy...

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