Two Anecdotes of Pie Donald Platt I Wallace Stevens lovedpie. His neighbor brought him a chocolatesilk pie, dark as a starless night. “What do youcall this pie?” he asked, he who had “placed a jarin Tennessee.” She smiled and replied,“Heavenly Pie.” That jar had tamed “the slovenlywilderness” around him. “Well,” he said,raising a piece on his fork slowly towardshis mouth, hungry after having walked home froma long day writing surety bonds at theHartford Accident and IndemnityCompany on Asylum Avenue,“Open the pearly gates.” II I am so loved byyou, who walk through rain [End Page 106] for twenty minutesto my apartment, carrying ina glass pie pan wrapped in a soft burlapbag to keep it warm from the oven, onewhole, paw-paw, lemon grass, and ginger pie.You grew the paw-paws, shook them when ripe downfrom the tree. Deseeded them. Scooped out theirbutter-colored flesh. Puréed it. Mixed itwith vanilla sugar, spices, whole milk, eggs.Poured it into its graham-cracker crust.Baked it until it turned golden as theharvest moon rising over a lake, castingits moonlight on the dark water to makean upside-down exclamation pointof light the color of gnarled ginger root.You are allergic [End Page 107] to paw-paws. You stayhungry and smile while you watch me devour onelarge slice, then clamor for more caramelizedmoonlight. [End Page 108] Donald Platt Lafayette, Indiana Copyright © 2023 Johns Hopkins University Press