Soffritto by Kevin McIlvoy

One finds this final plate of soffritto 

the least intentional of the many

plain plates that the food photographer 

had recorded, the revered food 

photography critic writes who calls 

himself one because his profession 

demands that he own his singular 

opinions about illusions of 

sustenance.

One asks nothing of this feast upon which 

one does not feast. One does not, of course,

consume the minced holy trinity 

of celery, of carrot, of onion

glistening with olive oil in a nest on

a plate clean as manna fallen over 

white linen.

One finds no evidence of hungering 

here, and one does not respond to the

cold lighting subtracting delicious

dramas of caramelizing heat, of

sparse seasoning dusting this small

serving which one cannot call “simple” since

one can no longer name what might have 

fed one so alone after long fasting,

One writes one

final time.

---

Kevin McIlvoy was editor of the literary magazine, Puerto del Sol, for twenty-eight years. The poems he has sent to Trouvaille Review are from a work in progress, The River Scratch; other poems from it have appeared in River Heron Review, The Georgia Review, LEON, Willow Springs, and Humana Obscura.