---

Jane eats with contentment
Three asparagus spears placed
Just

So

Ordered

Beside quivering egg
Center golden

Jane eats plain food.

Cucumbers, texture of late spring chill
Feta and tomato and silky green olives
Mellow as English sun, late June.

Jane eats with culture
Rustic peasant fare where
The secret ingredients are time and taste
This needs more August tomato, red
All the way to its heart.

Rochester’s happily ever after Jane roasts sweetness
into squash
or carrots or parsnips
warmed by the oven, drizzling honey
or butter or maple syrup.
Winter is a time for sweetness.
Winter is a sweet time for Jane.

Plain is pure
Contentment is sharing
Culture is ending with grace

Ah, but Bertha
​
Bertha eats like climbing Mount
             Pleasure
gloppy hot chocolate, mess
transported by a large spoon
dripping onto satin pajamas
toes curling in cashmere slippers, special
ordered.
Bertha eats to fill
                                   up
Drivestoofast

Of course her car is red.
One hand skillful
slips through corners
view plummeting down to rise
in staggering

scenes of the ocean, rocky
if one dares look.
The other
of course with nails gleaming punk pink
transports snacks from crinkling bag to laughing mouth
bag to mouth
jealously guards orange dust from steering wheel, radio buttons, door handles
Of course the radio plays loud
​
Bertha may break china
rip the veil
burn down the house
but today she fills two plates
stains the pages of luscious romance
climbs mount pleasure
eats
until she is full