Issue #26 - Poetry that Feeds the Palate
Note from Editor
Welcome to We Have Food At Home, bilingual edition! As a bilingual person myself, it delights me when people write in languages other than English (and then provide a translation for their readers). I am excited to bring you three poems by Holly, including one in Italian. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did; the amount of joy, richness, and culinary love is infectious. And I hope you’re hanging on, especially if it’s cold where you are.
Padya
Holly Payne-Strange
Holly Payne-Strange (she/her) is a novelist, poet and podcast creator. Her writing has been lauded by USA Today, LA weekly and The New York Times. Her next novel, All Of Us Alone, will be a recommended read for Women Writers, Women’s Books in December 2023. She’s had her poetry published by various groups including Door Is A Jar magazine, In Parenthesis, Quail Bell Magazine, and will soon be featured in Academy Heart, among others. She would like to thank her wife for all her support.
Langallo
I learned to make pizza while we were in Budapest. Well, I learned to make Hungarian pizza, A wildly, wonderfully different beast With paprika and yogurt And dough so heavy It might be a Dream. Our host lived in a hulking building, beautiful in its slight decay, Cobwebs and marble, an elevator that barely worked. Beside me, my muse laughed and chatted Politely refusing homemade palinka, Heady with the scent of apricot. When I envision him, It’s often in that Moment. The fantastically familiar colliding with sparkles. Creating something breathlessly beautiful. Everything I thought that I knew Taken by a suited magician And turned inside out, Fast transforming, Into something Wonderfully, Wildly, New. I didn't learn to make pizza in Budapest I learned To make something Oh so different. And that is why I still chase the moon.
Her Cooking
She stands over the oven, Carefully curating mushrooms into sauce Occasionally checking some chrysalis in a bowl, Peeking under a draped napkin like a dove, peering at her latest egg. I don't have any idea what she’s doing. Smells like it might have blue cheese, I’m excited about that. So is the cat. Whatever it is, I trust her. She is the queen of transformation, after all. Under her fingers, yeast blooms into bread And lush hair grows long enough to braid. The oven pings. Steam slowly rises. Her voice softens, What was once a boom Bowing to a soft lilt. Time marches on And dinner is almost done Her skin becomes smooth, Any facial hair slinking away No match for the alchemy Inside her body and soul. Something deep inside rising To an elderflower feminine. I’m so excited to see What other things she’s cooking up. And honored I get to Taste The Dish.
Life Changing Brownies
A deep, dark richness. A symphony of delight That melts in your soul. God there’s something Magical About your brownies. You’re the only one that's ever made me brownies, Did you know that? I took them on the bus and for a moment I just held them, Warm like humming. Life is so complicated. So many things to apologize for To wish for To yearn and regret. I know you don't really understand why I stay with you, Why I trust you Why I accept the abject failure and heartbreak Any sane person can tell Is coming. Just take a bite of your brownies. That should explain Everything.
Brownies Che Cambiano La Vita
Una profonda, buia ricchezza. Un'opera di gioia Che si scioglie nell'anima. Mio dio, i tuoi brownies sono Magia. Sei l'unica persona che mi ha cotto brownies. Lo sapevi? Li ho portati sull'autobus e per un momento li ho semplicemente tenuti in mano, Caldo come un ronzio. La vita è così complicata. Ci sono così tante cose di cui scusarsi, Augurare, Desiderare e rimpiangere. So che non capisci davvero perché sto con te, Perché mi fido di te, Perché accetto il fallimento abietto e il crepacuore. Qualsiasi persona sana di mente può dirlo, Sta arrivando. Dai un morso ai tuoi brownies. Questo dovrebbe spiegare Qualunque cosa.