"​November Noir, with lentils and unrest"

I cook like a squirrel, vote like a ghost, and freeze lentils for the ones who still believe.

Squirrel Instincts
In another life, I was a squirrel.
I cook too much--label, date, freeze.
Stews, soups, survival meals.
Autumn comforts stored for winter days
when I don’t want to cook,
or when someone comes over hungry.
I feed whatever gender.
It makes me happy.
Even if only for a little while…to see them happy.
You know they are when they smile and start to tap their feet
Before the meal is finished.


Gazebo Voices
At the Gazebo—corner of N. Division and Central--
Wilfredo of Sun River spoke of unity.
The crowd listened.
A Muslim man followed.
His words rang out.
Cars honked in solidarity.
The air felt charged,
like something might change.
But I’ve seen this before.


Lentils and Longing
Next up: lentil soup.
Slow-cooked in the crock gifted by a friend who matters.
I’ll follow the Times recipe--
aromatics, broth, sausage maybe.
By evening, the house will smell like memory.
I’ll freeze the rest.
For later.
For someone.


Dumpster Desperation
Arianna Payton, 25,
climbed into a Walmart dumpster.
Frozen vegetables. Moldy bread.
She lives on disability.
The food bank was empty.
This is America.
This is what the Orangutan man has done.
I won’t say his name.
He’s not mine.


Thanksgiving Dread
I don’t want to think about food anymore.
Not when babies go without formula.
Not when 42 million are hurting.
Not when the fat cows in Washington feast.
Except Zohran Mamdani--
he speaks and I shiver.
Could it be because I find him handsome?
Am I so shallow?
The rest?
I’m done.


Library Kindness
Kudos to Frank at Field Library.
His help last night
was the kind of quiet grace
this country needs more of.

Jazz Noir perfectly matches my mood every time.