Tuesday, August 6, 2013

A Matter of Taste (Poem)

A Matter of Taste

His Mexican stash sells
au natural, is way better

than any of that junk
in the supermercado.

The snails caught live
and priced at a premium,

fresh hauls of chapulines
to fry up crispy. And not

to be missed: giant-winged
ants, flash-frozen, all

protein, and so delicious
in salsa. His best-sellers

never clog the heart
like those thick armadillo

steaks. Two hundred twenty
-five a pound, las chicatanas

are the real deal. He agrees
the creepy gusanos de maguey

are a matter of taste, shrugs
at the disappearing trays

of invertebrate species
his compadres always raid.

This bug monger's a meat
eater. On the run, he goes

for one more taco, digs into
his Huevos SPAM® Cheros,

dreams of sunny Mazatlan
beaches, one more mezcal.

© 2013 Maureen E. Doallas
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This poem is inspired by the "Bottled and Canned" theme this month at TweetSpeakPoetry and Every Day Poems, which are spotlighting the poetry of processed meat (think SPAM®) and by a feature story that appeared in July in my local newspaper The Washington Post. Read the theme's introduction and listen to the playlist.

Translations: supermercado means supermarket; chapulines are grasshoppers or crickets; chicatanas are giant-winged ants; gusanos de maguey are meaty grubs (worms). Mezcal is a type of liquor made from agave. Entomophagy is the scientific term for insect-eating.

6 comments:

nance said...

A good combination of inspiration...

Chris Lawrence said...

Brilliant flows so well

lovemorestudio said...

A wonderful piece-- the snails sound, um, gross, but I think I'd prefer them to the trademarked-in-a-can Spam anyday. Fun read ~peace, Jason

susanissima said...

Wonderful poem! I was dazzled by the Mexican references, having lived there for a while, and strangely reminded of a shopping aisle in a market on Kauai that has one long shelf filled with every type of Spam a local might ever need. It's huge there.

Mystic_Mom said...

Enjoyed the write, will pass on the tasting! :-)

Seth said...

This is fun, Maureen. And as odd as this sounds, I think I'd like to try all of the foodstuffs mentioned in your poem.

Am I crazy?