Joseph O. Legaspi
Ókúrú after January Gill O’Neil We slice heads off the okras, strewn like mutinous bounty on the kitchen table, my sisters and I giddy with small knives, helping to feed the family pods, fibrous, tough, mucilaginous. Our mother heats the pan, throws in the adobo mixture: holy triumvirate of garlic, vinegar, and soy sauce, pungent pepper- corn, inedible, flavorful bay leaf. Then beheaded pentagonal capsules simmer and soak while we gather the adhesive tops, stick one each to our foreheads as if we're