Five Course Meal

 A spoon. Then a flashback to July 
 because we grow berries here
 in-house and vertical. All year, jam
 and those gritty seeds in your teeth
  
 All the words babies can't say: 
 cinnamon, lox, sashimi, brussels sprouts and butternut,
 a real aerobics of the tongue and breath,
 hors d'oeuvres, sous vide, leftovers, maybe.
  
 Here come the ferns and earthy things
 like garlic stems and perilla, but elevated
 to your vocabulary. It's foreign, sure, 
 but we bring in fresh air from the seas.
  
 Something to make you feel full and alive,
 dairy or melons or sourdough. Thank the chef
 for this microdose of remorse, eating is pain
 and at once necessary. Have you heard of pâté.
  
 A bite of cake and we play you a song.
 You think of years past and how your hands 
 and jaw worked together once, those days 
 full of toil and excess. The piano closes.