An almost ubiquitous garlic pepper spice blend used at a New York inspired, mom and pop, Italian restaurant I once worked at to flavor just about everything that came off the line. Need to season some flour for dredging? Add magic dust. Need a lemon garlic cream sauce? Throw some heavy cream, salted butter, fresh lemon juice, and magic dust in a sauté pan and reduce to desired consistency, adjusting the flavor as you go. You get the picture. This somehow, someway, went into just about everything hot and savory coming out of that kitchen, even dishes that included fresh garlic. About the only other combo that went into almost everything was what we called "green shit," a fresh herb blend of curly leaf parsley and green onions that we prepped fresh for each shift. And, yes, we also used dried parsley.

As for the recipe for magic dust, it was super simple, and we usually made it in one gallon batches, more or less.

the colour of your eyes is a sermon

kneeling at the bed, my mouth feels for you
in the dark, searching at the smell of you,
finds your swollen velvet, the apogee
where time becomes a nonsense

I salt the rind of your hips,
squeeze your brood to sentience and hatch
a moan, I seed my palms into your rut and
watch your lips arch as they root

my tongue speaks itself in lazy drags
lapping, i am your balm,
your salve,
in lucid, slippery

I put together a rifle with my own hands and nickels and me and that rifle can chew the itty-bitty middles out of your standard paper plate at 500 yards all day.

I've made phone calls that delete terrain features. I've run a stock pickup truck up and down trails that eat, with predictable regularity, purpose built side-by-sides. I wore the most expensive and complicated endo-atmospheric machine ever built like it was spine-f