As one fire ascends the jagged horizon of wooden fence

the nightly creatures, red-faced and salivating, converge toward the glow

carrying torches and tridents and thick slabs of raw meat.

A phosphorescent glow radiates from the coal,

the first smell—bitter and dry—billows from the pit

embers dance,

at the first sizzle, conversations cease.

The men grin their wet teeth

as the aroma summons hunger, curiosity, and unwanted advice.

Then comes the boy—naïve, untrained, and premature—with barbeque sauce

in a squeezable bottle

He is admonished and shamed.

This is the day he learns:

Never disrupt grill euphoria.