first through the ribbon

first through the ribbon

A Poem by delapruch
"

na.

"

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

Author

delapruch
delapruch

nothingville, NY



About
Bio: 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