Category: Flavor Town USA

“Requiem: Fin Inn,” a Flavor Town USA poem by Avery Gregurich

for M.T. Let’s debate ovals, acoustics, the moral virtues ofcurveballs. We’ll do it loud, live, staggering atopthe trusses of the river bridge. We’ll poke our facesin front of the lights off the dam for effect. A sunfloweron the shore will serve as moderator. First we’ll finish thesefrog legs, but I’ll give you cheap smokes, sure,…
Flavor Town USA Fiction: “Dangerous Soup” by Alicia Bones

Diner comment cards from The Wild Boar: “The soup’s the only thing I ever order because it’s the only food I dream about. Why do you have anything else on the menu? The soup’s the only thing anybody wants.” —Addie R. “It’s fabulous. He’s outdone himself. This is the best soup we’ve ever had!” —The…
Flavor Town USA: Five Capsicum Poems by Steven Ray Smith

Tabasco I repeatI was not named afterthat vinegary tincture you sluice upon your cackleberries You and I have not metbut let me say to you tooit was named after meAnd let me give you some advice Copyright patent and trademarkyour quirky relish and the cut of your compact jibbefore the patrons and partygoersand those with…
Flavor Town USA Fiction: “Cake Every Day” by Mike Lewis-Beck

Liam finds himself at a crossroads. His wife, Carla, has exiled him from their comfortable Iowa home, and he’s seeking solace in Oregon—Portland, to be exact, where he, a fifty-year-old Professor of Poetry, has secured a lowly visiting appointment at a local college. While that is a crossroads for him, it is not the crossroad. That crucial…
Flavor Town USA: Three Poems by Jennifer Martelli

We baked pearls made of denture material in a blueberry pie —Efferdent Commercial The first satisfaction is the fork breaking the flaky lattice crust. No, I’ve misremembered this commercial: the first satisfaction is this: the fork digs deep into the purple fruit filling, doesn’t break the dough, fishes deep down into the pie, the berries,…
“After the Hot Dog Eating Contest,” a Flavor Town USA poem by Avery Gregurich

for Dean Young I too have to start with a bite out of the middle part, the place in the record that isn’t music. Sweet drooling bits of black vinyl back onto the platter of hot dogs, waiting, patient between Surf and Stillwell, Coney Island. How do you take your dog to the vet without…
Flavor Town USA Poetry: “On Eggs” by Evan Williams

Scrambled poached over easy over medium over hard sunny side up hard boiled soft boiled screaming with tabasco with salsa with toast with ketchup omelette omelet omlet om nom nom let benedict pope benedict catholic eggs fertilized unfertilized Rocky Balboa eggs ostrich eggs emu eggs fish eggs caviar cavalier to spend so much golden eggs …
“Friendship Noses,” a Flavor Town USA poem by Adam Coday

The moment it’s worth it, I’ll eatthe pickled Brussels sprouts. —the moment I prefer the needleto fix the wrinkles, or go full hamand fulfill the pact. —the moment I’m willingto endure the accidentagain, only near an edge this timeon a floating bridge as I regrethaving put the glass-shatter-rescuing thingin the glove compartment, fucken seat belt,and…
“Debt,” a Flavor Town USA nonfiction essay by Christopher Bowen

Are you hungry the way I used to be? When I was a culinary student, I was always hungry and thought people will need to eat, too. They will always need me here for that and I’d always have a job because of that. I wrote and traveled, too. These were a few of the…