Palisadian Poetry Corner

The Palisadian-Post accepts poem submissions throughout the year. Here are two submissions penned by local authors following the Palisades fire. To submit a poem for consideration, email mypost@palipost.com.

Starved

By Michael Desrochers

One month without the food
I’ve lived on for decades:
Dante’s Friday-night duck special,
reintroduced at Vittorio, aka
the House of Pellegrini, whose
garlicky knots I wiped from chin
then used to clean my plate
of favorite fra diavolo sauce, heat
matched by Mastro’s spicy mambo salad
(which should be named black mamba),
Beech Street’s horseradish dressing
even hotter, but no match for Taj Palace’s
lamb vindaloo, extra spicy, cooled
by Hayward’s 10,000 Indian beer.
India discontinued Palisades –
my first choice in Indian brew.
You can surely bank on it that
Moku’s drunken udon got to me.
Casa Nostra’s pappardelle d’anatra
was a huge hit in our house.
How many hundreds of mornings
I arrived at 6:30 a.m., to join
the bus-transported housekeepers,
and ofttimes the body known as Jake,
for Palisades Garden’s pecan rolls,
substituted occasionally by Café Vida’s
brown rice almond pancakes.
Oh, for an early bird edition burger,
grill the onions, at The Golden Bull.
How the Reel Inn’s daily sign hooked me
with their curious lines and seafood chowder.
I’m starved for those dishes, but
I miss the cooks and servers more:
Vanessa, James, Mercedes, Sonny,
Alfredo, José, Marcio, Maria, Julián,
Cheryl, David, Nick, Martín, Michele,
Kelly, Pancho, Esteban, Tim, and the ghosts
of Kay ‘n Dave, the one and only Mort,
Modo Mio, the Oak Room, the House of Lee
(where has Albert gone?), Cathay Palisades,
and so many more who gave life to the food.