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# Pho Real
- URL: https://dianaludwick.com/pho-real/
- Published: 2026-07-16T16:19:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-07-16T16:19:00.000Z
- Description: “Pho Real,” written Thursday, July 16, poem 197 in a series of 365 poems written by Diana Ludwick in 2026. Photo: "The Temp is Right," by Diana Ludwick © 2026.
- Author: Diana Ludwick
- Tags: Current Events, Faux Lament, Generational, Humor, Loosely Hinged, Pun-y / Tongue-in-Cheek, Snarky, Uncategorized, Beverages, Bird Flu, Broth, Chicken Pox, Covid-19, Cyclospora, E. Coli Scandal, Ebola, Fear-Free, Food Recalls, Garnish, Government, Hungry, Jack in the Box, July, lava hot, Outbreak, Panic-seasoned, Pho, Pho Real, Polio, Sriracha, Summer, #Migrated-1792872215677, #wp, #wp-post, #Import 2026-10-24 20:03

I am so HUNGRY  
because I am taking   
this Cyclospora outbreak  
like the panic-seasoned   
survivalist I am.  
  
I have evaded Ebola  
and I marked myself safe   
from Polio  
if not chicken pox  
and from the Jack in the Box   
*E. coli* scandal   
of the nineteen hundreds  
and from Mad Cow  
and from Bird Flu  
and from Covid-19  
— at least, for a long while —   
and from Screwworm.  
  
But here I am,  
craving Girl Dinners (TM)  
of dirty Caesar salads   
with nebulous lettuces   
of unknown origins  
and condensation-dripping martinis   
with uncooked lemon twists.  
  
And I won't break my streak  
I must stay alive  
and so we order Pho instead.  
And I skip my favorite part:  
the raw sprouts  
the fresh lime  
the sprigs of purple basil.  
  
Instead, I allow the   
pale rounds of onion  
and the slight leaves of cilantro  
and two rounds of jalepeno   
to sit in the broth   
that I cooked iteratively   
for eight minutes   
on *High*   
in my microwave,   
willing away   
the single-celled demons  
that so clearly want   
to cause explosive diarrhea   
in my guts.  
  
It is the height of summer  
and I am eating boiling soup  
to avoid falling victim  
to the latest disaster  
that our government   
has gifted us.  
(Where's the receipt? I want to return this!)  
  
I eat my decoration-free Pho.  
And it is still good,  
as only comfort food   
stripped down to nothing   
can be.  
  
But my mouth,   
fiery from Sriracha  
and burning from lava hot broth  
thirsts for fresh tomatoes  
and crunchy cabbage  
and delicate herbs  
and fear-free berries  
and crudites   
and garnish in my beverages  
and unpeeled apples  
and the confidence   
that comes only   
with a committed denial   
to harsher truths.  
  
Until I can trust   
the produce aisle again,  
I'm gonna keep it  
Pho Real.