Carnal Fate

We left the expedition:

a private gastronomic novelty

to find the unconsumed—

strangers at our leisure

cut up and sold to closing

time versus consequences.

The evening divides,

 another moon transforms:

Desire is a solitaire.

Specters speak

                 increasing interference.

the nonhuman world approached.

Mostly without appetites

we ordered another aphrodisiac.

We were halfway to extinction.

It was time to go,

always time to go,

only I will not go.



A cut and paste poetry exercise inspired by the following texts:

1. We always sat across from each other at the same table in the same restaurant, talking. She was a regular there, and of course she always picked up the tab. The back part of the restaurant was divided into private compartments, so that the conversation at any table could not be heard at another. There was only one seating per evening, which meant that we could talk at our leisure, right up to closing time, without interference from anyone—including the waiters, who approached the table only to bring or clear a dish. She would always order a bottle of Burgundy of one particular vintage and always leave half the bottle unconsumed. 

From The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

2. I will not go into the psychological divide of eating wild versus domesticated animals, but to the extent of human appetites have increased in both number and the kinds of animals they pursue in their quest for gastronomic novelty and the mostly male-driven search for the ultimate aphrodisiac, the consequences for the nonhuman world has transformed. We have reduced entire species of animals to near extinction. I personally heard a science writer speak about scientific expedition to find the Golden Moon Bear. When they found one alive in an Asian market, it was limping because one of its paws had been cut and sold.

From Science Solitaire, by Maria Isabel Garcia

3. We saw waterfalls, too, streams jumping off cliffs into the valley of the Delaware. There were lots of things to stop and see-and then it was time to go, always time to go. The little girls were wearing white party dresses and black party shoes, so strangers would know at once how nice they were. 'Time to go, girls,' I'd say. And we would go.

           From Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut