It’s All in the Sauce
There’s a restaurant in town
with petunias by the patio
and black veneer tables inside,
an orchid at every booth.
A photo of the late
King Bhumibol
presides over the two-stool bar
and a damsel fish aquarium.
We run into friends
before we settle into booth #3,
the minced chicken basil
just like the ka-prow-kai in Thailand.
I use chop sticks to savor the flavor
of fluffy rice and spicy sauce,
water to cool the palate.
Conversation comes to a stop.
3 thoughts on "It’s All in the Sauce"
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Yum! I’m actually eating Oriental food as I’m reading this. Good Poem!
Love the wonderful details in this poem! I can see the restaurant, almost taste the food!!
A few deft strokes and we can see the whole picture. (And I love food-porn poems)