Our poem this week is 'Vegetable Special at the Gate Hangs High' by Tina Sederholm!
on the pub specials board.
That’s L,E, space, Sagne.
after all, people in Britain
after a couple glasses of red,
which is permission enough
And it doesn’t get boring
to repeat Le Sagne, Le Sagne,
These tiny errors happen so easily.
if T’shuvah had been better translated.
the scribe had found a word
closer to the original Aramaic ’return’.
Then we would not need to repent our sins,
Like reversing out of a cul-de-sac
when the sat nav gets confused.
Maybe the scribe’s bowels ached
on how some people should behave,
felt his brother could do more
Maybe the scribe at the chalkboard in the pub
was having a similar moment.
Remembered being ridiculed in French class
as they dithered between Le or La
and having never studied Italian
thought Well… It sounds like a Le.
I ordered Le Sagne anyway.
The point is; it was delicious.
Tomatoes from the pub garden,
a sprig of parsley cut not ten minutes before.
if I’d let a misplaced letter
cause me to dismiss this meal.
Perhaps it is a universal truth,
whether considering lasagne, or a bible,
one should seek a little deeper
and always check out the source.
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