Monday, February 17, 2014

When Pigs Fly

When Pigs Fly

When pigs fly it is said that one ought not to touch
one’s wife’s elbow. One must refrain from
smelling apples and thinking of opera. When pigs fly,
blue is registered by the eye as yellow, etc.

Do not lick postage stamps when pigs fly.
Do not lace your shoes. It is forbidden to be nostalgic
for the days when you were small enough to sit upon
your grandfather’s lap and sniff his beard.

When pigs fly the stars do not align, and drawers
which have never moved will suddenly become
unstuck. Forks must not be used when pigs fly.
Neither agree or disagree with arguments made by children.

If one swears an oath when the pigs fly, it will never
come true. Turn all paintings towards the wall
when pigs fly. Do not look at the sky.
I repeat: do not look at the sky.

When pigs fly, you are temporarily released
from all obligations made to childhood friends
when standing in water. When pigs fly you must
refer to them as “pork birds,” for this is the term

they prefer. The birds will refer to themselves as “fish”
and the fish shall call themselves “Enrico.”
Those named Enrico will refrain from whispering
for the duration of the pig’s flight. When pigs fly

you will forget everything you remembered
about calculus, and if you know nothing of calculus,
you’ll be none the wiser. When pigs fly you will understand
wonder, and peaches, and motorcycles, and snow.

McCall's Book of Marvellous Meats, The McCall Corporation, 1965

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Revenge Salad

Now might I do it pat — while he is chatting;
And now I’ll do it. And so he messes up his pants;
And so I am revenged. That would be just:
I, his virtuous wife, do this cheating villain send
To the laundry.
O, this is silliness, not revenge.
He violated his vows grossly, deliberately;
With deceit on his lips, flushed all May;
And he thought I wouldn’t find him out?
But he bought me jewelry, so it seems
He knows he messed up. Am I then revenged,
To embarrass him at this cookout,
When all our friends will think me mad?
Up, platter, and wait for a crueler time:
When he is drunk asleep, or lost in sports,
Or in the adulterous pleasure of her bed;
Gambling, cussing, or about some act
He shouldn’t be doing;
Then trip him, that his ass may land in salad,
And wreck his mood, as dark and black
As our marriage. My mother-in-law arrives:
This dilly-dallying but prolongs my plans.

(Mrs. Hamlet)

Fast Meals Cookbook, Rockville House Publishers, 1972

Also from this book: Why We Can’t Cook
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