a note*

Everything I post here I have previously published on the many other blogs I have had. This is a place for my favourites to rest. These are the wings that taught me i could fly and that there is life waiting, far beyond the ridge.

If you care to comment, just drop me an email at grayhawk77@yahoo.com

rick

Monday, June 18, 2012

The Baking Lesson

i watched her, from deep in the attic,
from the far corner of the cellar,
from my secret window

with unsteady hands, she broke the egg in two
then, yoke from white, white from yoke,
she schlopped it back and forth
while softly humming a tune
i yet did not know
-the bakers abortion

my pants were too long, too baggy,
and my shoes straggled untied
and i noticed, just beyond her curlered hair,
the sun shining through the dirty window
far too small to escape through
not even if we went one at a time

the sink dripped her minutes
while morning from night
yesterday from tomorrow
hope from desperate dreams
she schlopped, keeping
both of us hypnotized
by it's charm

my nose was running dirty
my hair a tangle of ruin
but she didn't notice
nor he, who was at the diner
eating an omelet

but the lesson she taught, i remember,
i know just how to do it

step one, ignore the boy in the window
draw the shade, and take the curlers out,
now toss them in the oven, turn on the gas,
but don't light it.
the ticking sink will be the fuse

now take one grade A large bomb
throw it against the family portrait
which never spoke the truth
never saw the sunlight
and watch it explode

that's how you make a cake
and even the diner will rock
from the tremors