I   baked   purple   peruvian   potatoes   the   night   before   my   brother   came   over,   with   rosemary, garlic,

and   olive   oil.  I   had  wanted  purple  mashed  potatoes  but  upon  slicing   them  I   saw  they   were   far   too

beautiful   for   smashing.   To   keep   their   patterning   intact   I   cut   some   in   chunks   and   some   in   thin
circles.          What      a

as       they          baked!  

detail  but    still       they

the    salad   of    romaine

tomatoes   with    sesame

I   was   alone   in      my

feeling   sumptuous   and

evening     m y     brother

home.    I   asked   if   he

said   whatever    I    had

girl   had   just     finished

we     stood      in      the
ravishing,     urgent      scent

baking        blurred        their

were    beautiful    next     to

hearts   and     sugar    plum

and      seaweed     dressing.
 
apartment,                feeling

solitary,    and    the     next

was    there   when    I    got

wanted      meat     but    he

was   fine.        A     beautiful

breaking    his     heart.    As

kitchen      eating      leftover
baked   purple   potatoes   with   fresh   anasazi   beans   and   whole   wheat   tortillas,    he    remarked     “Purple

potatoes   make   the   best   mashed   potatoes.”    Not    having   received  a   response the  first time,  I   asked

again,     “Water?     Juice?”     He    choked    out,   “I    did    everything    right!”    and    fell   into     my     arms.
skin tinged purple brown

gouged-out eyes baring flesh

    fractalling white borders amethyst

         entanglements, hemispheres

 intricate in cut disks

    greased like ready muscles

crushed rosemary needles

             oily and wrinkled

    caramelized contours, ivory
     
              scallop fans of pearly turnip

              amaranthine spuds
r.kv.r.y. quarterly literary journal winter 2008 poetry

Purple Peruvian Potatoes by
Rosa Salazar