over the flame you place
a pot with kernels
and a slapdash handful
of oil, shut the lid.
then you listen,
for the gentle flicking open
an expression of heat
contained.
there is always the possibility
the clean yellow corn
overflows
the lid puffing out smoke
like your last most desperate
cigarette,
but either way
it comes out perfect,
we know this
as you pour it
into the large bowl.
you pinch salt, and spread it
turning the popcorn in your hands
like a child
turning clay
in joyful abundance
Monday, June 18, 2012
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