A kitchen was an extraordinary
place for writing. Combined with Earl Grey
it practically wrote for you; I observed the ways
in which waves curled up and moved
towards the seagrass and back.

White foam raced to the shore
almost chasing something but
never quite reaching; slamming the rocks
on its path, smoothing out sands.
Then fade away.

I took a sip and chose a wave
to root for in this contest.
My eyes followed; observed it getting larger,
whiter, faster but all in vain. Sooner or later
it would disappear and become one
with all the others.

Grandfather’s clock had signaled dinner, as I
finished my third mug and looked at you.
Henry rubbed his ears against my foot
and jumped on the chair beside,
joining me in my daily hour of
wave surveillance.

You were like breadcrumbs
left unpurposely by my digestion during breakfast

You stayed on the kitchen table 'til noon,
'til Mama swiped away the remaining crumbs,
and I have lunch
with another dish--a different meal.

Something else, but not
you.

mining liquid ice, cream vanilla something
at dawn, sugar, fat, whipped smoke rising hope
better than hate at breakfast, face etched snarling
a circuit ******, roll and tub down *****
slippery, thumbed a feast of biscuit crumbs
off a plate, table and at feet. Arrived
at loathing a choir rabid, sings morning.

I pray
I pray fire
furnace roar from your centre
circling cells, sparking breath, spirit
rising

I pray honey
warm milk sober flow
as gauze, to shield and sooth
your wound

I pray kitchen tonic
sweet ferment, anise spice
molasses bitter—the nourish
and gather

I pray leaf and flower
brewed to healing power

I pray squirrel play
great leap, and hover—  
catch and clamber
chase and chatter

I pray snowdrop
nestled in cold darkness, knowing spring
always follows winter

I pray river
ancient friend steering you to salty depths
and home

I pray sun gaze deep breath full surrender
I pray blue sky long view
sleep’s cover
I pray love of a mother
I pray

Cake
You can eat it too!
My frying pan
Is half empty

Hate me
Because I am good
No!
Because I am great!

Michelan Stars
Trips to Mars
Candy bars
Mason jars

Drunk I am
Said the can
To the packet
Of ketchup

Baker's square
I worked there
Line cook nook
Splatters shook!

The kitchen man
Burns the water
The ******* fan
Yearns for slaughter

Impatiently sitting on the bench ahead
Cup stares at me as if wanting to be fed
So I grab Cup and find a boiling kettle
Fill Cup with water hoping it will settle
But Cup begins to steam and nag
So I search the cupboard for a tea bag
Choosing one from the others, I quickly drop it in
The water changing colours, makes me throw it in the bin
I think the dark stuff is something bad
And Cup seems to look pretty sad
So I try to swallow the black stuff away
But my method seems to make Cup dismay
Before I begin, something hot hurts my lip
I didn’t realise that Cup could nip
So I hurry towards the kitchen sink
Tip Cup upside down, before I can think
Cup throws up, being upside down
I forgot Cup got sick when moved around
So I put Cup back where he was
I can see that Cup feels better because
Cup is no longer steaming or spewing any more
Come to think of it, I don’t know why I touched Cup at all!