My kind of poetry

Remember that Sex and the City episode when Aleksandr Petrovsky reads a poem by Joseph Brodsky to Carrie and then she reads to him her kind of poetry, which is in fact a description of an Oscar De La Renta dress in Vogue? I think if I was there with them (which would be kind of weird) I would read this:

“Each different cheese is defined by a terroir, its flavour the result of that terroir’s grass, its animals, its wild flowers and herbs, its summer and winter pastures, even its chill winds and damp, dank winters, cold earth, decaying leaves and winter feed.”

– p.22, Where Shall We Go For Dinner? by Tamasin Day-Lewis

It’s my kind of poetry.

Advertisements

One thought on “My kind of poetry

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s