I have always wondered what haggis tastes like
because, despite living in Scotland for two decades,
I’ve never actually had the opportunity to try it,
and not for lack of desire, but due to dietary restrictions,
which would also apply to more foreign delicacies
like Yorkshire pudding (some Scots will appreciate the jest),
in toad in the hole in particular. Perhaps I’ll order it
for my last supper.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
Just what is it that makes today’s homes so different, so appealing?
To be honest, I don’t know how to answer that, but I liked that unexpected pop
from the first moment I set foot in the drizzle-drenched kingdom of politeness
and understatement (your own words). I figured I’d puzzle up a few words—
since the dough was still rising under the cloth—as I always do, but the arrivals
at Granite City’s airport have turned the sourdough bread into a rowie.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
I had a stew
made with butternut squash,
sweet potatoes,
and sun-dried tomatoes
for dinner tonight—a humble result
of emptying the fridge into a pot
in the hope that the final product
would be edible—while listening to Joni
when the thought came to me
how utterly ridiculous creatures we are,
stuffing our mouths
only to excrete some hours later,
repeating it over and over again like markers
in an indefinite stretch of time between now and then,
and in the end none of us is any wiser;
everyone is just making it up as they go,
but perhaps some are better
at pretending
that they know clouds.
hidden pilcrow 