Garlic can't help itself
The purifying talisman
with its raw body yanked from the dirt garlic can’t help but announce itself: a heady pungency sharp, reaching. this is the purifying talisman, rejecting malevolence before it is wrested from its papery cocoon. chemistry and brute strength waken its true measure, oily allicin oozing off the blade. thrust into the murmuring oil, heat softens its bite, breaks down its aggressions, makes ready its creamy sweet seduction at last.
“Too lazy to peel fresh? You don’t deserve to eat garlic.”
—Anthony Bourdain
Poem 17 of 31 in the series “The Liminal Season.”
Today’s poem prompt was “garlic” from Mike, who grows it in his garden every year.




Great poem on one of my favorite subjects!
One of your very best