French Onion Soup

Carla mixes a little sugar with some butter.
She heats this sugary butter
in  a large heavy-based saucepan
until it (the sugary butter) is melted.

She adds sliced onions,
cooks em over a low heat.
She stirs constantly,
until the onions are golden brown.
(The Strangler’s song comes to her mind)

Gradually,
she adds beef stock 
and continues to stir constantly
then brings it all to a boil.
She reduces the heat to low,
covers the saucepan
and allows the contents to simmer
for an hour.

She sits down on her sofa,
lights up a mentholated cigarette.
her harlot-red lipstick marks the cig’s butt.
She takes a swig of cognac
and begins the collected prose poetry of Charles Baudelaire.

After the hour is up,
she removes the soup from the stove.
Adds a splash of cognac 
and some salt and pepper,

As she is adding the pepper,
she hears
a gun
shot and
the sound
of glass
breaking.


You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk. But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk" -Charles Baudelaire