I made you.
Your intricacies are my whims
I was the woman bent over a *** on a gas stove,
I put in the pepper before the salt.
I left the stock-fish to boil for softness, I threw in the beef late
to save some of its strength

I had a plan and followed it
to make them smile that taste you
How then did you loose it?
My careful sprinkling of salt
The measured bits and pieces that went to make you.
The fire, the pepper, all of the hotness
Why are you so watery you run off?

I wasn't bent over a claypot when i made you
l didn't pinch for resources nor haunt roadside kiosks
I didn't fan the flames with air from my puffed cheeks
Why do I taste this soot in you? This blandness?

You have allowed a sinking, a sinking to the bottom
A slipping of things that should be awakened
Take the great spoon, stir up the low things
Awaken the pepper, agitate the ginger
Light a new fire and let it boil over.