Thursday, May 26, 2005

My Travel Poem

Mendocino in the Rain.
Old Whaler Ghosts, peeking from the drain.

What is the fish special?

The Redwoods so tall. And I fall for nature.
Oh, I do indeed fall.

It's not made with cream, is it? And sorry. All you say, in your apron, is sorry.

The Muds of Calistoga. To float.
Cucumbers on puffy eyelids. Makes me think of nuns deep knee-bending.

What is a Daikon radish? Does it sting the tongue?
This is the best meal I've ever had.

6 comments:

Dan said...

Where was the meal? I need to know, WHERE WAS THE MEAL?

Don Cummings said...

The poem refers to three meals in three different places...

Anonymous said...

Which of the three restaurants was the best meal you ever had?

Don Cummings said...

All Seasons Bistro...Calistoga
(Poetic license, however)

Dan said...

Thanks. The Jews need the food facts - no metaphors for us.

Todd HellsKitchen said...

Glad you had a good trip!