A Bowl of Rice
The ricecooker rumbles like a tireless engine
A sharp click signals,
“Dinner’s ready!”
The metal lid is lifted off the cooker,
unveiling the core in outpour of vanishing steam.
What can I do with a bowl of rice?
Without an entree, all it is
is a bowl of rice,
bland, unsatisfying, and impotent
But what would I do without a bowl of rice?
None other than the staple of the East
without a foundation, a meal crumbles.
At the bottom, but never the least
Pristine white like a bed of pearls,
a background to the
spectrum of burning red peppers,
deep brown beef,
shiny jade scallions.
The satisfying texture
of fluffy, hot rice
off my tongue, into my stomach
An unassuming utility,
never standing out.
After all, what would the savory dishes be
without the reliable partner they need?
A perfect complement to the overwhelming
bold flavors like Sichuan spiciness,
Yes, bland, unsatisfying, impotent;
But without, how can I stomach a serving of “Water-Cooked Beef”
without choking on the fire in my mouth?
Alone it is nothing; but in a unit,
it serves a vital purpose.
What would I do without a bowl of rice?