I’m looking at a half-consumed container of hummus, wondering, Do I have more of this? Should I get more of this? Is this a two-seven-ounce-hummus weekend? Possibly. Still, I don’t see myself putting my shoes back on and going back out in the world tonight for my hummus fix. On my pantry shelf are multiple cans of chickpeas. Right under that shelf is the food processor. I bought the jars with the idea of making hummus. At home. And maybe going full-on super-Bear. Make the falafel and rice, too. Don’t get me going down the rabbit hole for tzatziki recipes! Make Uncle Jimmy want to invest in me and have to regretfully turn him down – “no, I can’t take your money. I’m just making this for the poetry marathon weekend…”

Yet the cans are untouched sit while I’m paying others to create my hummus experience for me.

The marathon always entails stocking for what I think I’ll want while giving up sleep for poetry. Seldom, though, do I think of making things while I’m also acquiring things. I was patting myself on the back for finding my favorite ice cream on sale last night, but when do I do likewise for already have more than one can of chickpeas? I was already prepared, but just not taking advantage of my own preparedness. Whether I make the hummus tonight, I don’t know, but I hope, at the Sat/Sun 2 a.m. mark, I remember fortification, of the stomach and of the soul, is closer at reach.