Poets in the Kitchen: Ewa Chrusciel

The Food Poet: Food & poetry have certain commonalities. How do you describe the poetry of food? Ewa Chrusciel: We are Infinite and we are made of our small cravings. Poetry of food implies that kind of contradiction and longing in us; the desire to belong; the desire to carry with us our childhood flavors.… Continue reading Poets in the Kitchen: Ewa Chrusciel

Ewa Chrusciel’s Contraband of Hoopoe

It’s not a difficult thing to think that at a poetry festival, you might hear a poem that piques your interest. It’s an entirely different thing to hear something– a way of offering words to a subject of already well-tilled ground in a fresh voice that makes you beeline to the bookfair area and snatch… Continue reading Ewa Chrusciel’s Contraband of Hoopoe

Sausage Poetry by Ewa Chrusciel

I buy a sausage at the airport before I leave Poland. Kielbaska, kielbasa, kabanos, kabanosik. This, my transcontinental dowry. The sacrificial baby of my tongue. Foreign gods hover over us. If God lets my sausage in, I will eat it like a saint wreathed in incense, circle a table with Gregorian chants. Folkberg variations. The… Continue reading Sausage Poetry by Ewa Chrusciel

Long Live Gastronomic Poetry

Mark Strand passed away in November. Somehow I always expect there will be a flurry of magazine covers and articles to eulogize poets with the same kind of attention afforded to celebrities. And, perhaps that might be the case if the world resembled Brattleboro, Vermont where a stranger walked up to a poet friend of… Continue reading Long Live Gastronomic Poetry