Remembering Anthony Bourdain
There is a hole in the Universe.
No one has stepped in.
There was no place in the world
I was uncomfortable when he was there:
passionately curious, sensitive,
a consummate teacher.
Did you see Houston? Montana? Vietnam?
Congo? Armenia?
It was the people, the same everywhere,
and wonderfully different. He let them speak.
Their food, their stories, their histories.
But now, in remembering what
he stood for, I hope more of us
make time to annihilate those parts of ourselves
that are a sham, to uncover
our true nature;
take time to walk in someone else’s shoes,
eat their food, to become more human,
to shine a little light on darkness;
take time to recognize one truly heroic person
in our lives;
take time to listen to winds that blow
across our borderlands,
ruffling grass, messing our hair,
speaking truths that have no limits.
On the other hand,
I'm mad as hell he did
what he did.
