She hates mushrooms
says they smell like dirt
and grow on **** and darkness

She hates green beans
because her thumbs still ache
from seven summers
snapping tips

She hates kale
because she don't wanna
chew for days
and her jaw clicks

She loves onions and garlic
the baseline
of everything going right

She loves the sweeter cabbages
melted down in bacon fat
topped with snap peas and walnuts

She'll cook for anybody
willing to listen
to her sizzling grease

She'll caramelize your mind
question every savory intention
every bitter herb in your teeth
salt every wound till it sweats
and goes limp in the pan

She travels with her tongue
her pantry her passport:
cumin, coriander, cinnamon,
cilantro and cardamom
in simmering stews of goat
and collard greens.

Her knife has a keen edge
and she cracks the joints of dead birds
like splitting cheap bamboo chopsticks.

Her eyes go wide and silent
at the range
and when the burners fire
the whole world gathers and waits.