Capitol Restaurant was surprisingly crowded on a Sunday afternoon. All the tables were taken except the counter. So I sat, ordered a seafood and bok choy on rice. The soup came immediately but the dish was taking a while. The lady sitting next to me was reading the newspaper. I took out Robert Duncan’s book of poems.
Er, what do Chinese food and poetry have in common? Well, the noise of dishes and people talking did not help my concentration. It was certainly the wrong place for deep stuff. But look at this: page 36, “…This city and its people hide in the hideous city about us, among the hideous crowds in this street…” It was me, having a respite between duties, hiding in a Chinese restaurant “…yearning for bliss, so that they know not what to do but must go as the thought of bliss sends them...” Food. Food. Food. Bliss!
My dish came. I ate, savoring the shrimp and calamari and tender greens. I had been coming to Capitol for nearly thirty years, eating lunch with my dad daily when we were running the music shop. For a long time, it was our second dining room.
“And we have made a station of the way to the hidden city in the rooms where we are.”
Quotations taken from Structure of Rime XXIV, Robert Duncan/Bending the Bow.
