Bloomin’ Onion
AKA onion blossoms. They’re always at state fairs and greasy steakhouses. Do people outside the States eat these? It’s one of those things that’s just so bad for you, but worth it. Like everything at the state fair, all of which is deep-fried. Cowdog Creatives and I were joking about writing a poem about onion blossoms, now it’s reality.
greasy witch hands reach upward
pointed fingers of batter
inside are pale, limp worm bones
lost vegetable, battered and fried into crustacean
oil pooled in pockets
golden anemone
god of saturated fats
I think there’s an onion in here somewhere
pick a piece like a flower
light, empty crisp
loose guts slip out
How are we going to finish this and then
a sodden cold napkin and dark brown leavings
which even we couldn’t face
throw it away, wipe our fingers
and pretend it didn’t happen
but evidence remains
in our fingers, breath, stomach gurgles
Sarah D. Silvey 