Slipping in the hard curl
\nof florescent light, I cut
\npotatoes into cubes, watch
\nas they boil, a scum forming
\non the sides of the old
\naluminum pot. Too many<\/p>\n
days lay stacked on the shelves
\nof this kitchen, too many chipped
\ncups, sour mild jugs. cracked
\nmemories,eggshells, and coffee grinds
\ntossed out on the difficult lawn.
\nI hardly hear you when you enter<\/p>\n
the room, returning from your vigil.
\nYou stand close, stare down over
\nmy shoulder into roiling water,
\nand tell me that I have chopped
\nthem too large, that this meal
\nis taking too long to complete.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Published in:<\/p>\n
Off the Coast (2010)<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Slipping in the hard curl of florescent light, I cut potatoes into cubes, watch as they boil, a scum forming on the sides of the old aluminum pot. Too many days lay stacked on the shelves of this kitchen, too many chipped cups, sour mild jugs. cracked memories,eggshells, and coffee grinds tossed out on the … <\/p>\n