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The recipes like confessions.
Kitchen Song
cupboards filled with nothing.
-
The sun. The bomb.
They were just driving along.
by Laura Kasischke
full of lilies， the lobsters scratching to get out of the pot，
I wanted something simple， and domestic.
All those who've drowned in oceans， all
The white bowls in the orderly
The white bowls in the orderly cupboards filled with blood.
who've drowned in pools， in ponds， the small
and God being pulled across the heavens in a burning car.
Dad turned the radio off， and Mom turned it back on
A kitchen song.
The sound of applause in running water.
The confessions like songs.
family together in the car hit head on. The pantry
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