3 Valentines


TriniGourmet ’98 says it with a tuile heart:

Autumn ’89 wants to send a valentine to all the amazing strangers that have crossed her path in life:

To the woman who picked me up at a bus stop when it was vile and stormy out. To the couple who picked me up on the highway in Texas when my brother’s car had broken down, drove me to a gas station to pick up oil, and then drove me back. To the man in Athens, who, when I had left my hotel, wandered out into the market and gotten hopelessly lost and terrified, took me out for espresso, got (and paid for!) a cab, and, by way of 20 questions in halting English, found my hotel for me again.

Wordarrangement ’98 celebrates with a poem:

Ciliege mozzarella resists my bite.
Like your beard, even when I’m close enough.
Or the ocean, so solid from above.

The Italians say they have hunger.
In New Jersey, I’m hungry. In Florence, I have it.

We are salty after a swim.
It isn’t polite to say it, but
you taste good.


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