roast chicken + red wine


When some people talk about money

They speak as if it were a mysterious letter

Who went out to buy milk and never

Came back, and it makes me nostalgic

For the years I lived on coffee and bread,

Hungry all the time, walking to work on payday,

Like a woman journeying from water

From a village without a well, then living

One or two nights like everyone else

On roast chicken and red wine.

– Tracy K. Smith b. 1974