first through the ribbonA Poem by delapruchna.when upon grasping in the fridge for a bottle of hot sauce amidst the myriad of styles collected for the taste, her/his hand grasped hold of a teriyaki hot sauce, something of which s/he him/herself thought that s/he’d created one early eve, upon returning from work with a hungry stomach & nothing but frozen potatoes to microwave & just a little butter to be had--- whence administering the cayenne sauce, of which Frank’s was all that roamed free in the vacant box of ice, s/he’d chosen to mix it with the soy sauce left over from an attempt at a Schezwan dish a few nights earlier & in retrospect, the taste was something that s/he swore s/he’d repeat, given the right circumstances & the right desire.
when s/he was younger & tinkering in her/his dad’s garage, s/he nailed two leather straps to two corresponding planks of wood, then slipping her booted feet in, s/he got atop a snow hill & slid down with her/his weight a few feet, before falling face down in the snow that had not yet really packed in & alas, s/he didn’t let the light bulb glow further, instead, discovering with the rest of us later that this invention would come to be known as the “snowboard” & that “snowboarding” would become a zillion dollar industry--- so, one can imagine that when s/he saw that some company who makes hot sauces, had already put two & two together, mixing soy sauce with a cayenne based sauce, s/he was quite dissatisfied to say the least & after unscrewing the cap, licking the top to check the taste, the anger built up inside & s/he him/herself felt that s/he was one step away from smashing the bottle on the kitchen floor in a fit of rage, because s/he’d have to go on working the rest of his/her life, when joe/jen schmo would get to live out the rest of their lives sipping Mai Tais, greased up in coconut oil on some beach--- but then that light bulb did kick in, if not better late than never & s/he did not smash the bottle, because after all, it was goddamned tasty.
© 2012 delapruch |
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Added on December 28, 2012 Last Updated on December 28, 2012 Authordelapruchnothingville, NYAboutBio: The writer we call delapruch has been writing since infancy. His first piece was scrawled on the inside of his mother’s womb. Long since published, the rights now reside in the hands o.. more..Writing
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