CANDIED YAMS
Or How to Monster

Swamp the potatoes in warm water, cut them top to tail then roast till honeyed spit dribbles down the face of it. Note: There are over 400 varieties of sweet potatoes parented from poor soil—some cream, some custard, some bruised through an open-sore night.

Knife the earth-drenched roots. Skin. Scoop. Splatter the soft meat into the pot. Discard the charred skins (but note: they’re good fiber).

Skitter the sugars. Ash the spice. Delight in suet’s sonnet—the butter skimmed into thick skin (note: stir

until the spoon smacks like a backhand—your father’s cracked knuckles crashing) Crush the citrus into spectral pleats—bilious lemon, orange seeds scattering like teeth—grate each.

Pitch the gas high enough to hear’s heat holler

& while he roils, scrape off the sugar crusted on the spoon, note how sugar sticks like resentment—taste it; decide you hate it—sour in the fresh cuts in your gums—let it stew. Let it smolder. Let the copper pot burn.