Mieke Eerkens

Location: Sausalito, CA
Email: Meek606@aol.com

KITCHEN SPIRITS

Lilting pumpkin bread nights,
in wood and sleek cold refrigerated hums,
I sit in the kitchen and
watch my mother.
The lights are soft
the voices not
In the back of my brain,
a vagueness.

Once were hard boiled eggs
under windows of creamy sunlight,
high-chaired chortles
on creaky benched love.
Once were dinners
in sloppy spaghetti fun,
greasy charismatic nights
with optimistic formica.
But wood gets old
and paint gets dull,
like with a lot of things.
And in the wall
next to the fridge,
now lives the fist hole,
defiantly sucking the heat.

- Poetry - A Childhood Compared to the 9-Hour Workday The Downtown Upanishads Kitchen Spirits Larks Die Too Maybe One Verano Kuwait Fall Love Letter Goodbye Circe A Billow on the Clothesline Simply Doc - Prose - An American Suicide Sweet Fanny Adams And They Say He Shall Return Million