Scent of a honey made of many flowers

Scent of a honey made of many flowers

— for Soledad Ramírez Marrón

What a romantic Grandpa was
when he first courted Grandma
against her father’s will—
his drinking buddy—
and bought her a cow
to go with the house he built her
out of mud and sticks and promises
of a better one once they had
enough money to leave behind
his farmlands, ex-wife and unwanted son.

Grandma got so good at cooking
carne con chile verde
because she made it every day,
and she went through the trouble so often
because Grandpa was pickier than an unbroken horse
trying to buck a rider off its back.

It was all he ever wanted to eat,
and hated eating other foods
as much as he despised
the way other people ate—
the lip-smacking, slurping, moan-breathing,
the sheer enjoyment of eating was the worst—
so, if you were going to eat…