Chasing Utopia Read Free

ME
    Chocolate cookies
    Chocolate cakes
    Chocolate fudge
    Chocolate lakes
    Chocolate kisses
    Chocolate hugs
    Two little chocolate girls
    In a chocolate rug
    No one can find us
    We’re all alone
    Two little chocolate girls
    Running from home
    Chocolate chickies
    Chocolate bunnies
    Chocolate smiles
    From chocolate mommies
    Chocolate rabbits
    Chocolate snakes
    Two little chocolate girls
    Wide awake
    What an adventure
    My, what fun
    My sister and me
    Still on the run
    Still on the run
    My sister and me
    Still
    On the run

SPICES
    i used to watch
    my mother cook
    she would invariably sigh
    a little sigh then light
    a cigarette
    since no one smokes
    anymore Beans
    have not tasted as good
    i have her sigh
    and stacks of spices
    â€œThis one is cardamom
    It comes from Southeast Asia”
    â€œThis one is nutmeg
    the defense of this spice by a Brit was so fierce
    the world court heard the case and the Dutch
    gave up Manhattan Island for the little island
    in the Indian Ocean that grew nutmegs”
    and cloves . . . stick them in an orange for a
    Christmas present
    or a ham to make
    a design
    cooking with Mommy was
    Geography “These pansies you can eat”
    â€œThese mushrooms will
    kill you” (should we put them in your father’s eggs? she’d laugh
    and say)
    the green things
    rosemary thyme tarragon cilantro
    the fennel we grew brought mean
    yellow jackets so
    we get it at Kroger’s
    â€œThe trick to a great
    Ham
    is a song” she’d say
    And we would sing loud and lustily
    She harmonizing with me but me
    Unable to carry a straight melody
    Now it is ready
    cold water almost to the top
    fennel allspice pepper pods of all colors
    No Salt—it’s a rule
    green spices till it
    looks right then
    cinnamon on the uncovered top
    low heat until boiling
    (about 2 hours)
    let cool 15 minutes
    pour off water then
    let cool on your platter
    I make my Ham the way
    my mother made hers
    with lots of talk and love and laughter

THE OTHER PLACE
    Corn bread muffins
    A streak of lean
    Mustard greens simmering
    On Grandmother’s stove
    Boiled ham
    Fresh churned butter
    Grandpapa reading the comics to Grandmother
    And me
    While we cook
    I set the table
    With the everyday dishes
    They both like ice-cold water
    We are home
    I am home
    Safe against the dangers
    Of the other place

THE LIONESS CIRCLES HER BROOD IN NEW ORLEANS TO SWIM HOME
    (for Marvalene Hughes)
    When the storm was coming, the first storm . . . Rita, Marvalene called . . . unhappy. “I have to evacuate the school . . . and I just got here.” I made nice noises because Marvalene is a friend . . . an old . . . not aged . . . friend and I could tell she was upset. I am a big fan of when you can’t change it, you’ve got to go with it. “Want me to come down?” I asked trying to offer support. She didn’t say “Dummy! If folk could come down I wouldn’t be evacuating the school.” She just said “No. I’m going to visit my sister. I’ll be all right.” I watched Rita make land. I tracked her. New Orleans and Dillard had made it through. I remembered Hugo here in Blacksburg when my fifty-pound umbrella weight was sliding across my deck. I was in Florida even before that when Hurricane David penetrated the walls of my condo. So while I was aware of the fear I was still trying to remember we had all gotten through. Then along came Katrina.
    Katrina was shaping up to be one of those hurricanes that we all remember. I’m a big Al Gore fan and I was absolutely in awe when I saw his film. This was going to be quite a moment.
    My son and I, when he was a little boy, used to visit an island called Young Island which is off the coast of St. Vincent. For the hip folk, Young Island is about a two-hour sail from Mustique which is where Princess Margaret and her friends used to hang out at or near the Cotton House. I never made it to the Cotton House but one night our manager said “There’s