Poetry is meant to invoke a certain picture or emotion from its reader. Baca clearly feels a deep sense of family and remembrance in such a simple object; the green chile. The beginning of the poem leads to him describing the doorway of a home, something he sees draped in red chiles that adorn the eaves, and provide a clear mental image to him (and the reader) of what he sees when he thinks of home. However, his grandmother loved the green chile. His love for his grandmother was completely wrapped together and whole by the ties that the green chile provided between her and Baca. He sees this spicy fruit as a piece of art, saying in line 17 "From its swan-neck stem, tapering to a flowery collar, fermenting resinious spice." Such a simple thing, but it obviously holds deep meaning to Baca.
The journey that he describes that he sees his grandmother go through with each pepper is almost kind of...lewd. Like i'm reading one of those dirty paperback novels you can buy in the grocery store check out line. In line 25 "Its bearing magnificient and taut as flanks of a tiger in mid-leap, she thrusts her blade into and cuts it open with, with lust on her hot mouth, sweating over the stove" Like, okay, grandma. Calm down there. Someone get this lady a fan.
More than anything this poem takes the reader through a short, yet beautifully described journey of remembrance, family, and ritual that Baca sees every time he holds a green chile in his writer's hand. It is, as he described, a ritual that will be retold each time he and families of others prepare these little plants. He remembers the passion his grandmother had, and he sees it still in the New Mexico men and women who carry bags of these chiles home.
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