Today’s prompt: write your own two-part poem that focuses on a food or type of meal. At some point in the poem, describe the food or meal as if it were a specific kind of person. Give the food/meal at least one line of spoken dialogue.

I.

There’s a lot to be said about the fish head,

some people look askance, you mean

you actually eat that? I tell you,

it’s delicious, cooked in spices

with rice and small potatoes, ghee

dripping as we dig into the brain.

It’s not one for the weak of heart,

if you’re vegetarian, it is certain

to make you retch or gag

at the thought of this cuisine.

The head lies on the block,

cleaved by the bonti**, dead pan eyes

staring at me, accusingly.

“Did you once stop to think?”

II.

Sometimes your words cleave into me

like that bonti** that ploughs the fish head

cut apart through the middle, dead pan eye

looking at me, accusingly. Yes, I am,

I am part of the reason that fish was dragged

from the languid depths of its home

to be served with rice on my plate.

I do not care for fish but I like

the crunchy softness of the eye,

the hard lens at it slips into my mouth,

round and unforgiving. Forgive me but my words

have no intent to beg or grieve, I like eating

that fish head now and again, pull apart

succulent flesh, sucking marrow from the bones,

not thinking from whence it came, or the eyes

staring at me accusingly. Just like you don’t care

that your words often wound me,

And you’d do it again, willingly, unthinkingly

for that extra punch upon your palate.

*A signature Bengali side dish made with a big fish head, rice and potatoes.

** Bonti: a very sharp cutting instrument consisting of a long curved blade on a wooden board which is held down by the foot.