recipes
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“The Sausage Master of Minsk” by August Kleinzahler
I was sausage master of Minsk; young girls brought parsley to my shop and watched as I ground coriander, garlic and calves’ hearts. At harvest time they’d come with sheaves: hags in babushkas, girls plump as quail, wrapped in bright tunics, switching the flanks of oxen. Each to the other, beast and woman, goggle-eyed at…
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wikipedia poem, no. 18
lies beyond The edge, a tired of the freezer I find the hacked with vacation clouds in the freezer I find the universe Its edge but what lies beyond The Yoghurt Tree weeps at the real prospect of the side. Living grapes in the asphalt’s softest feed the hacked with vacation clouds When the kitchen…