Welcome to Popular Ink's INDELIBLE KITCHEN.

Now get the hell out!

Really, we would love to have you stay but we would feel rude about that as we have left. As in gone, defunct, kaput. We aren't here anymore. Sometimes, when it's late and we are worried about dying, we do believe in reincarnation. So, maybe we will live again. We'll let you know if that happens.


A New Poem by Gentry Hoffman


Ossetian plain, Caucasian dirt highway
all roads lead through Troy and the usual delays

Troja Troja send my lady over
i last saw her crossing
the georgian border

Oh, Azerbaijan, who's side are you on?
Enough! bring the roses, i'm planting a garden.

Tbilisi, Tbilisi, Eurasia, she needs me!
the silk road dead-ended, a lake to a sea

And all i could smell was the rotting of fish
i wanted to help, but i never learned Ingush

i wanna fuck things up and then make them perfect
like Blumenbach, i wanna come around full circuit

But i know you're not listening
For you'd never deserve it
I do not have the nerve
To bus fare that desert

Georgia, send her bones if you've found them
If not, you may want to look in the mountains

I hope you are watching the mountains.

by Gentry Hoffman


Anonymous said...

why is there no cheese dip in this poem?

Supremo said...

Gentry Hoffman, we are still watching the mountains.

Anonymous said...

Nice. Would like to see more.

Supremo said...

still watching