How to Be Sage Without Hemlock
According to the map you’re still home street view
caught you with a grocery bag full of unwanted
auctioned potatoes dented cans
I was wishing for a fresh snow the kind
of beauty that conceals I was
earnest but stupid according to or in spite of
our texture of belief we should eat
the potatoes the skin rich with
storage space according to the guide the leaves
contain an active poison what we have
can't be measured in international units our bodies
assimilate choose their satisfactions we'll
go with what is left of the bread the wine
the hunger in other words with
what kills the least number with the most ease
How to Catch the Wolf
When the wolf proves he is actually there
you talk to your friends you feel
a definite sense of panic the sketch
is an approximation in desperation look what you’ve done
already there are black marks coal
across the page a brand new dust in the nostrils in-
side your mouth the sickness is separate
from the self but the hostess heedlessly
upright keeps mixing the two into your drink when
you realize that the symbols have been switched
on you you can live most agreeably in a world full
of an increasing number of disagreeable surprises
what you see through the window is
simulacra what’s tracked in can be kept
How to Distribute Your Virtue
After the thin days are passed the boring
minimums met will you find the slow savor
in the baked wished-for apple or
will you notice the spider and death’s fat
percentage in steady levitation so peaceful
from this distance there are fewer
options rooftop runs into river and what you gain
in perspective you lose
in looking there are ways
stocks investments heirloom
seeds to buy futures each choice
is half loss at least get on with it the wolf’s
fur is tangled in spider silk the delicate
ceremony is simmering
and fuming in its own borrowed heat
How Not to Boil an Egg
How easy it is to stray
from austerity when the water reaches a certain
height and the city comes to a boil and the city’s sky
isn’t a reflection of its inhabitants but is
in fact more water more than you need fit for nothing
a poor economy probably one of the most private things
in all the world is an egg until
it’s broken smile you are being documented
you are becoming a person unconscious
of the manifold disguises
not to mention artful imitations that can tempt
any sentient by principle you’ll need at least one
flower a bird bougainvillea brown pelican don’t
leave it alone don’t overdo it
Author's Note: These four poems are part of a series based on How to Cook a Wolf (MFK Fisher's 1942 philosophical and practical guide for cooking in times of rationing). I've stolen chapter titles for poem titles, and included in each poem is some appropriated language from its respective chapter.
Cherry Pickman is the author of Theory of Tides, which was selected by Lucia Perillo for the Poetry Society of America’s New York Chapbook Fellowship. Her work has appeared in 32 Poems, Boston Review, and Indiana Review, among others. She lives in Miami, Florida.