the forbearance of fornax

I’ve got a pile of dough! and I need to get there fast,

not in a getaway car from some heist that I pulled off-

No, not that kind of dough-

though i’m certain its still rising

in that tea towel covered bowl where I had left it

parked in the sun by the side of the road

in that derelict car that left me


sit. for a while I just cried,

then kicked it and hitched a ride

with a stranger who seemed to be going my way,

though so far from home he stole me

I’d forgotten what was robbed from me.


last night, near midnight, i was wakened

by this hunger in my swelling belly,

made my way from that stifling discomfort

into the opening arms of the night


where at that dark oven she stood, ancient

goddess of oven-baked bread, her stars faint

remembrances of that left-behind

vessel I’d born long ago


so, you see, I must find it, and fast

I have visions of fragrant dough squeezing

through windows and doors so long locked uptight

they’re bursting to fill my belly

with the goodness of long kneaded,

freshly baked bread.


well, these poetry prompts are stretching me a bit, but I see it as exercise, like the ones that I do through the winter to keep my body strong for carrying canoes farther into the backcountry in the summer… the practice of one makes the other not only more possible but, because of the practice, also more rich.

today’s prompt was to write a poem that involves dough, stars and an unusual





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