Laura Klinkon

I don’t intend to be artsy-fartsy
yet I can’t seem to help it
for I do make art whenever I eat
or plan a meal.  You won’t find
a form more interesting, substance
more engaging, movement more
dynamic than in your G.I. tube.
You only need to trans-substantiate
its fabric, imagine it transparent,
see the contours, colors, textures
as they flow right through.
My lentil-chicken soup in browns
and whites and somewhat green,
meandering, falling like an autumn brook,
made a mental tapestry today, and
was a gentle visitor to my gastroroom—
a sand-dollar cookie with
lemon-ginger tea came, too.
Today I will not think about the sculpture
that I’ll make for dinner—dynamic and
impromptu go together! Well,
the possibilities are endless, and
honestly this concept could improve
your taste—besides your diet.
Yesterday we visited an Ethiopian
buffet.  You look at the colors of that
food and arrange them in the strata  
you contrive:  deep green, cyclamen red,  
tiger-lily coral.  High summer—
which could easily turn to early spring—
depending on your preferences.
What good is a sculpture you can’t see?
you ask. What good is a sculpture
you can’t digest?  Visualize it
in your mind!  You’ve created, pre-
conceived it, with all the wealth of content
available to you—three times a day, all in
dynamic play—both good and good, I’d say!
Laura Klinkon was born in Sicily, emigrating with her parents at five years old. She has a B.A. and M.A. in Languages and Literature from the University of Pittsburgh and American University, and has worked in editing, writing, and translating in Washington, D.C., New York City, and Rochester, N.Y. She has published a full-length book of poetry, Trying to Find You (2013), and two chapbooks, Kitchen Abrasives (2017) and Looking Askance (2017).  Laura was recently granted a translation residence by the Library of Rome, and has published the resulting Italian translation of sonnets by Edna St. Vincent Millay, in The Silent Lyre/La Lira Silente (2018), Stesichorus Publications.