Eating Together, Kim Addonizio
A single sprawling stanza that describes a (probably) two minute scene. Addonizio spins the whole poem around one line:
"She eats / as though starving—chicken, dolmata, / the buttery flakes of filo— / and what’s killing her / eats, too."
The specificity of the lunch and the LACK of specificity about the speaker, is all the more gut-wrenching, don't you think? We see the friend take off a man's cap, feel the speaker remember how thick her hair once was, but we are in the speaker's seat. And the sheer amount of space given to the dipping of bread into oil, the peeling of olives, it makes it feel painstaking to watch. We're stuck at the table. We must go on.
I don't know; this feels like form and content doing the good, hard work, together.