Civilised Okra
Lynda V.E. Crawford
ef you doan wan eat slimy okro stew
wid hands & lips don't
I have
& I've curved my silver spoon away
while delicately scooping turtle soup
& pulled fresh thyme through my teeth
Bajan soup: pumpkin puree & pigtails
& I've raised a small bowl to my lips—why not
while tasting miso broth of soybean & koji.
We Caribbeans are in-between
Mother Africa, Asia & the colonial way
the okra in my cou cou only slightly slimed
flying fish ndiwo firm, metal fork stabbing just slightly.
It's time I try my yellow turned corn meal
with right-hand fingers lick them clean
remember a liminal ancestor or two in the chewing.
from the journal PRAIRIE SCHOONER
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