a correspondence of beans

a banality of dry white beans
sit quietly in a dusty jar.

an onion arguing with extinction
airs it's affliction in the bin.

a wodge of summer tomatoes solid in the freeze is neighbor to 

a chronicle of ham, still fastened 

to it's homeliness 

of bone.

my pot heats as i pour 

the correspondence of beans, 

ham bone, onion and tomatoes into it's gape.

with a bang of the lid

i walk away.

6 hrs. pass as the interplay between these 

four attitudes 

mix and mingle into one autonomous 

soup.

in the meantime i have sifted and stirred and paddled and beat

an episode of flours, egg, milk and honey

into an inclination of 

cornbread.

spooning the lusty gruel into my bowl

my senses receive a donation of joy and

a larceny of languor that gives my tummy

narrative.

what was old is new!

what was dead is stew!

long live bean soup!

we sing and toot and toot and sing

long live bean soup! 

it's a midwest thing.