In telling a star
that you are of the
cosmos, floating in terms
of eating the movement of our past
wretchedness, must not
discourage us.
Our daily prayer should be that our
guts hold out for an
Italian-sausage sandwich with fried onions
and green peppers, dissolved in marinara.
I returned to the pursuit
I intended to, and drink wine
without tearing the fantasy.
From pages 120-121 of The Raw and the Cooked: Adventures of a Roving Gourmand by Jim Harrison (Grove Press, 2001).