15. Featuring: Judy Kendal

patched work

… disconnected morphemes floated past

it was perhaps the sixth day that we fished for them
storing our catch in shallow bowls
where they shone, transparent
kaleidoscopic

certainly the temperature shot down

was it at that point that the seamstress was asked
to line language with things?

her needle ran hither and thither
with no time to cut patterns
sewing whatever was nearest to hand

I can see her now
racing the cold

but who remembers the cracking as the ice advanced

  the rising and falling of lights…?

only you

it helps of course
to have some weight
pulling on the rope
but harder to find
are the upturned eyes
that focus
on only you

Edo

1600 - 1867

For Kanazawa, the Edo period constitutes
a flowering of aesthetic pursuits -
gold leaf
ceramics
lacquer
silk
tea
Noh,

all balanced on the overflowing rice tributes from land
gripped by the firm if ruthless hand of the Maeda clan.
Things haven’t changed, so much that Kanazawa (golden bog)
is now completely water-logged,

a place where only carp and lilies live,
reserved, traditional, conservative.
Yaki Imo

Ringing out - the roasted sweet potato seller`s call
(these days recorded)

Making Rasmalai In Kanazawa

Early summer and it is already 33 degrees.

I unearth Vinita’s gift of rasmalai -
to be made when missing home.

Crushed cardamom seeds
in milk & melted sugar,
bubbling all the while
an old friend drapes
his arm round
someone
else.

Back in the bread basket
who cares who
is sick.

Yoghurt ferments
with good reason.

Delicious rasmalai:
remember to refrigerate before enjoying.

how your whole life

how
yourwholelife
isrippeda
parthowyoucanno
longertrustany
onehowtheonlymin
dyouknowisyo
urshownote
venth
at

Yaki Imo

 
Ringing out - the roasted sweet potato seller`s call
(these days recorded)
 
Y A K I I M O O O O O
 
the traffic an accompaniment
in this carpet-covered room.
 
Maybe I`ll make a curry today
for one,
a carrot, an onion.
A motorbike is buzzing in the distance.
 
My friend left me a pitta bread
inside the fridge.
Tears fall before I start to chop and
I bless all those who do not look.
It is a cold I have,
red-eyed,
a cold.
 
Still the same old yaki imo call
(tape faded)
the traffic quite loud still.
 
YAKI IMOOOOO