48

An Ode to Hot Sauce
Tanner Léon

Feeble bodies fumble  
on tasteless foods,  

causing grumpy moods:  

lost in the black  
and white world   

of culinary catastrophe,  
they search for any ounce 

of color...  

But wait!  
There looms on the horizon,  

a savior...  

Oh graceful god,  
save us all  

from the nightmarish hellhole  
known as bland supper.  

Your shredded peppers  
are blended red,  
like tan shaman.  

A few spurts of the bottle  
will reinvigorate ramen,  

painting lifeblood   
amongst the crevices.   



49

When tacos are dry,  
totalitarian,  

Tabasco liberates taste buds 
into humanitarian holiness.  

Tomatillo lush greens  
condensed in a container  
with jalapeños so serene,  

they ride together  
on an emerald wave,  

splash into a bowl   
of arroz con frijoles.   

Put it on potatoes!  
It’s vibrant like tomatoes!  

Sizzle me Sriracha!  
Spice up the broccola!  

Canvas the collard greens!  
Lace the burritos!  

Oh dear hot sauce,  
thanks for never keepin’ it 

aburrido.   

You profess picanté,  
delve dishes  

onto an edge of danger.   

A smoldering whip cracks  
Louisiana Lightning Strike 

from the sky,  



50

sauntering me into a slow sway,  
coiled with the snake of spice.  

Fire gleams in our eyes, 
the hot passion of life.  

Bodies must fight to grow 
and I know 

you’re a sweaty 
workout who waterfalls  

noses while the eyes 
run wildly 

through a lively throat.

When I need a good kick, 
I know where to go.