Winter 2000 • Vol. XXII No. 1 Poetry |

Carnival Mood

But my god you were beautiful. A vegetarian, right? It comes back to me. Forget those brilliant enchiladas I offered you one after another outside the 4-H tent. Can you ever forgive me for suggesting beef? What's a memory lapse compared to true history? It comes back to me, those sweet teeth of yours. My daughter understands sweets. Yesterday while playing with the unlit barbecue she glanced over at me and said, My tooth tells me when I need a Mint Milano (didn't you have some mechanism like that?), but I had forgot to buy them at the Pennington Shop Rite. Guess you shopped wrong, she reprimanded, her budding sense of humor only just approaching blossom. What about protein? Isn't that a danger for your people? Really, it was great seeing you after so long. We haven't changed in so many essential ways— sure, gravity's had its way with us and there's an accumulation here and there— but there we were, walking around the exhibits on our own. Could

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Carnival Food

By Daniel Halpern

But my god you were beautiful. A vegetarian, right? It comes back to me. Forget those brilliant enchiladas I offered you one after another outside the 4-H tent. Can you […]

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