Poems & Essays

16 Nov

Clan Text

General/Column No Response

The knife’s staccato snaps
echo off the cutting board.
I rake romaine
into a cracked bowl,
salad by numbers,
the usual ingredients
sure to keep them
from complaining about dinner.

They still tell the story
about the year I challenged
tradition and added garlic salt
to the mashed potatoes
on Thanksgiving,

their somber expressions
reminding me of the faces
on Mt. Rushmore,
cautioning me each time
I pull out the masher.

My phone chimes, daughter
adding to the group text
that she’s making cake pops,
just before my son adds
that he’ll pick up ice cream.

He’s forgotten about
the last time he picked up
ice cream, then left it in his trunk
until it was time for dessert,
the ice cream melted
to a foamy puddle.

I text as fast as I can,
trying to beat my daughter
to the punchline, growling
when my phone chimes
before I’ve finished,
imaging the popcorn-burst
of her victory giggle.

 

Sharyl Collin started writing poetry about four years ago. Her poems have appeared in various publications, including Mason’s Road Literary Journal, Wild Goose Poetry Review, *82 Review, The Intentional and Lummox.

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Creation November 16, 2015 Abandoned November 16, 2015