"Songs for a Belgrade Baker"

[Yoshie Furuhashi]

"Songs for a Belgrade Baker" -- Karen Kovacik

With electricity cut by NATO bombs, she waits in candlelight for her customers.
-- _New York Times_ photo caption, May 24, 1999

Reportage
Her shoulders ache.  In ten minutes they will wander in from the 
cellars, wanting breakfast for the children, a sandwich loaf, 
something crusty that would stand up to soup.  The line will curl 
through the dark shop.  They will point, choose, and their purchases 
she will tally by hand.  Later, there'll be a rock concert, a rally. 
By then, if she's lucky, she'll be asleep under feathers, dreaming of 
the tiny horns named for cuckolds and whether they will lose their 
curl in the ovens, for the young ones, deprived of Ninja Turtles, are 
hungry for these pointy buns.

Corporeal
This is my body, this is yours
The sour mother rising in the bowl
will bring forth fingers, horns, and plaits
O armpit of pumpernickel, groin of corn
give it to us black and blonde
Sink into the beds of our bellies
and grow us new bones

Folkloric
Offer it with salt to welcome a weary traveller
Sign each braid with a cross before baking
He who steps on a crumb will make the souls in limbo weep
Drop a slice on the floor -- kiss it before eating
Salute the bride with a loaf, and she will be happy in bed

Antiphonal
Blessed are the Slovenes, for they are the cake-makers
Blessed are the Croats, for they excel at fish
Blessed the Dalmatians, for their black wine gave birth to philosophy
Blessed the Montenegrins, for their honey pastries console bitter coffee
Blessed, too, the Bosnians for the subtlety of their tongues -- who 
else would season veal with lemon and hibiscus?
Blessed the Serbs, for their bean soup makes foreign clerics sweat
Blessed the Herzegovinians, for their silver wine strengthens friendships
Blessed the Macedonians, for their puddings of pumpkin sweeten a heavy feast
Blessed the Albanians for their love of cinnamon
And blessed are the olive trees and vineyards, goats and sheep, for 
they serve both parable and table
Blessed are the mint and dill, for they are the peacemakers
And blessed the yeast and sponge, the sour-gray loaves, for they have 
inherited the earth


Karen Kovacik was born in East Chicago, Indiana, in 1959.  She 
currently teaches creative writing and literature in the Department 
of English at Indiana University-Purdue University of Indianapolis. 
Her book, Beyond the Velvet Curtain, winner of the Stan and Tom Wick 
Poetry Prize, appeared from Kent State University Press in fall 
1999....

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