Making Popcorn

i wondered if it would really pop.
how long has it been since a kernel
has popped in hot oil on the stove,
in a mere saucepan, without having
been prepackaged in a flimsy Aluminum
pan where we marveled at how the
aluminum foil billowed in front of
our eyes on the stove, or if we were
really lucky, over a roaring campfire.
would it really pop, i wondered, if
i didn’t unwrap the cellophane, flatten
the folded packaging onto the
microwave tray and listen
for when the pops were more than 5
seconds apart.
would the corn really pop if it
was not previously drenched in
fake butter and salt, do farmers
really still grow popcorn that pops
the old fashioned way, the way that
i remembered and it felt so strange
to heat up the oil in the saucepan
and put a single kernel in and then i
remembered as that kernel popped to
quickly add in more and put the lid
on and shake the pan over the heat,
the steam billowing out whenever i
lifted the lid and the kernels popping
furiously, the smell of hot pop corn
filling the kitchen, the taste of simple
pop corn in my mouth,
on my tongue, just as

i remembered
it, so long ago.