breakfast buffet, alexandria

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breakfast buffet, alexandria, originally uploaded by Ululate.

Unable to shake the memory of the breakfast at the diner in Alexandria, Virginia, last Sunday morning. Not only did I eat a little customized omelet containing jalapenos, cheddar cheese, onions, and tomatoes, but also hearty slices of Virginia ham, bacon, a biscuit and gravy, a flapjack, grits, cantaloupe and watermelon, and a little bit of peach topping that was supposed to go on a waffle had I had room in my physiognomy to fit it so I just tasted the topping, which was like, hmm, alchemical essence of peach. And to think of all the things, besides waffles, available for the taking at the buffet, that I didn’t eat: barbecued chicken, macaroni and cheese, greens, turkey sausage, potatoes. Oh, just a beautiful, caloric, vibrant muchness of a Southern diner on a Sunday morning.

The thing is, I was there for poetry, not for eating. Poetry has taken me all over the place (this utterance makes me think of Robert Frost who said something like, “poetry is a kind of gloating”, exact quote to follow). What a great event, “In Memory of My Theories,” a kind of tribute to the benevolent and “inscrutable” kingpin of D.C., Rod Smith. G. and I had to leave early in the evening to catch a plane back to NYC so that I could teach Monday morning.