aging · Family · Humour · life · poetry

If I Was a Kitchen

If I was a kitchen, I’d want
an old-fashioned woman
at my counters, rolling dough,
canning  pickles, chutney, jam,
homemade pasta sauce, and
every Sunday a roast. She’d
wear her sweat like a saint,
ignore her aching back, one
practiced hand feeding her
Carnation baby, while other
children flocked to Formica,
hot flesh sticking to vinyl,
as they picked at fresh made
sweet buns, the pot on the
stove perpetually simmering.

Or give me modern efficiency –
ninjas and presses, air fryers,
and induction cookers – let the
children belly up to the breakfast
bar, chomp on veggies and humus,
while Mom totes baby in a sling,
and preps her bone broth, strains
of Baby Einstein emitting from
a propped up iPad, while a cellphone
vibrates on granite and the Keurig
spits out one more Starbucks Pike.

Just don’t abandon me, piles
of unopened mail, or tossed
aside receipts company for
coffee rings on my counters.
Please don’t litter my surfaces
with rotting takeout containers,
or dishes caked with process
cheese residue, leave my
stainless steel sinks stained,
spoiled food reeking in the
refrigerator, traces of late night
mishaps curdling on the floor;
the absence of familial sounds
declaring my presence invalid.

(Originally posted on June, 2016)

disability · dreams · Humour · poetry

No Show

Cooking challenges
are not for me –
inviting self-assured guests
to partake in my over-sized
oven-ready breasts –
show time!

Why should I
care about competition;
agree to act fancy,
ground myself down
with expectations?
I’d be afraid

my dependents
would run out from behind
my wings and topple
the repast before
it’s served up, along with
my reputation.

I have ample
bosom, but that doesn’t
mean I like to cook –
reservations are my specialty –
especially when fare tasters
speak Foodie

What kind of language
is that? Really?
I accept that I somehow
missed the gourmet gene,
that my home is not a
culniary castle;

would love to belong
to the fit and healthy
but renewal for me
is a place to lie my head,
having fun
horizontal.

(Image found on:  gameofdiapers.com)