If you pull back
the layers, toss them
aside, you’ll find nothing
at the center.
It’s a joke.
And it makes you cry.
Some people need
the pieces to be
symmetrical, but me,
I just chop and chop
into sloppy bits.
It’s for the taste anyway.
Not that I would eat one raw.
But in Georgia during summer
sliced Vidalias and fresh tomatoes
appear on supper plates.
But both of those are side dishes,
and this is about the center
of it, which can’t be located.
What lies between us could be
a field or a river or just a dusty
country road.
But instead, it’s complicated and striated
and so abstract that I have no idea
what I’m talking about.
Still, I have to say, this not-knowing
a thing is what makes mothers weep
and lovers sigh.
It’s potent.
Kinda like those kitchen fumes
that make eyes tear up
even when there’s nothing
particularly sad.
At the center of us goes unnamed,
not really nothing or a thing,
but a no-thing.
But then, I have no idea
what I’m talking about.
© Ami Mattison
I like this, as honest as you would want an onion to be. In the interests of both enduring hope and accuracy, I will insert the horticultural factoid that at the center of the onion is the shoot that carries the reproductive parts insuring its longterm existence. But other than that, I celebrate with you the truth that I don't know what I'm talking about either.
ReplyDeletepeeling back the layers can be a bit of fun though, trying to find that no-thing...of course i am thinking about other things and have no idea what i am saying...but i will weep for it.
ReplyDeleteI just chop them in random bits, too. I love onions!
ReplyDeleteAt the center of them is their little onion soul, but you can't see it.
Oh, Ami -- Im so glad I'm not the only one who has absolutely no idea what I'm talking about in poems! You have free me on that, Brian and Hedgewitch concur. And I am a whole broken poet now. THANK YOU!!
ReplyDeleteWow! Hedgewitch knows a lot about onions. Cool. I never knew that bit.
Oh yes, it is ALL about the taste. Tasty.
I remember how I refused to cut up an onion that had a tiny little shoot just beginning to peep out. I kept it on the window sill and let grow, until, it could grow no more and browned. Then one day, it looked up to see the blub had collapsed and was covered with fungus. With a pang I deposited it into the bin :)
ReplyDeleteBut that's about onions.
I love these lines-
What lies between us could be
a field or a river or just a dusty
country road.
But instead, it’s complicated and striated
and so abstract that I have no idea
what I’m talking about.
Still, I have to say, this not-knowing
a thing is what makes mothers weep
and lovers sigh.
Only in my head :) I removed 'Still, I have to say,' Sounds more powerful without those words. Enjoyed reading you as usual.:)
Cheers
Padmavani
I chop my onions willy nilly. I always wear contact lenses, too, because then I don't cry, which make me worry that my eyes aren't breathing. This is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteWhat lies between us could be
a field or a river or just a dusty
country road.
Surprising turn here. Nice.