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Marie Calendar's
DeAnn Jordon
A family gathering,
someone's mid-life birthday;
not sure
why I'm here
muted by the hum in my head -it vibrates on piano
strings
in the green and grey of the carpet, patterns shift into strange creatures
(bizarre gargoyles-half woman, half winged beasts
eating their young)
wood chairs
solid, solid table I grip to steady, hold on for dear life,
banquet of homey foods-my mother's favorite sweet
cornbread, honey-butter balls,
eggs on my sister 's plate.
I haven't eaten for seven days-a God's
week of creation inverted.
Eggs and potatoes lay like terrible offerings down the table,
quiche with ham,
I'm a catatonic puppet
eggs benedict, crusted toast.
in my otherworld,
a small egg cluster
soft little planet
purged from my body
the eggs.
a string pulled
a week ago-a Goddess' prerogative-Kali's
right of cleansing-the eggs
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