I am given
a wrinkled infant.

i didn't know what
to do
with the rutabaga
too

How do i make food
with goo goo ga ga?

i held the arms
that reached out from wombs
or farms
as if
on stage
oo oo la la

and lathed
them off

like cobwebs or rocks
in tomb or cave

holding the head
i whispered like a gas stove
(or empty grave)
putting fire to ears
like words to love
or stories to bed

(for years)
simmering young thoughts
to broth...

and the
seasoning
is
as plain
as roots of man
that beg for spring
like
me, a tree
in wind
.....in AWW ta bleee

for to cook is to look
and to sway is to sway.