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Part Two: Golf Tip Four, Eggs Benedict Pie, Peeled Onion Dream, and Barry White

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Barbara Jean Sunshine Walsh

Barbara Jean Sunshine Walsh


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Here you'll learn Golf Tip Four and ask "Whatever Ever Happened To Golf Tip Number Three and Golf Tip Number Two?" We also offer the history of Eggs Benedict—not invented by Benedict Arnold—give you a poem and remind you of that time you were happy just driving along and that certain song came on the radio to ruin it all. Here's the poem:

Peeled Onion Dream Pie

“Just peel the onion,” you told me. “Peel back the
layers and see what you find.” “Nothing,” I replied,
but I was wrong. Nothing was just what I found 
there at that very particular point in time.

Now I know an onion is full of space, and space 
of course is full of stars. So let’s talk about 
observation, seeing time move, and wondering when  
and how simple viewing snaked its way through
the amygdala to turn itself into critical thinking. 

To make this pie, I suggest you start out with one
perfectly large, unfathomably sweet Vidalia onion.
Peel it back until you all you can see is stars, motion,
and mathematics. Opine to your heart’s desire.

Percolate. Steep overnight. Reflect. And finally
inject just a drop or two of raw emotion to give it 
that special zip. Spread this filling warm over a thick 
skin of bread dough and caramelized minced onion.

Bake in a wood-fired adobe oven in the darkest heart 
of night just north of Nogales while you sing arias with    
wild coyotes and breathe in the same stars that I 
alone could not see inside the onion. 

Serve in a paper bag. 

Try to think your way out of it.