Cooking time

Green and red peppers,
An onion,
Cloves of garlic in a jar,
Endless cups of olive oil:
These are the objects of my attention.
I can imagine my pennies
Collecting in the bank,
But there is still a cost:
Time I am not reading,
Time I am not writing.
I worry that it means
I am not serious about poetry,
Because the chopping and
Frying and washing gives me
Such great satisfaction.
How easy to slip into the routine
Of office and kitchen and laundry.
I need my pennies to go far ā€“
To the doors of the university
And back ā€“ but I hope
I can steal time for writing and words,
which, after all, are the point.

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