Ode to Pinehill BBQ Buffet

Poem by Adam Largaespada + Interview

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I first learned how to cook
and lie at an all-you-can-eat Korean 
buffet. Ages 6 and under eat
for $12.99. On the drive there, in a fern
colored Camry, father convinced me 
I’m 5 and to remember that shit.  
Rows of raw bulgogi, brisket, 
and dishes my white-washed tongue
couldn’t pronounce. Surrounding
them were tables: their centers de-cored
and filled with grills for guests.
Father ordered me to fetch food. 
Unable to recognize anything as edible,
I brought back a plate of cherry
Jell-O and orange slices from a forgotten
buffet bar in the back corner for kids. He smacks
me and leaves to get things himself.