Ingredients
BY RAGE HEZEKIAH
I’ve broken three brooms
in our marriage—
gripping the stick
to force dirt & dust
motes into order. My fists
have milked cows,
excavated potatoes,
kneaded countless
loaves of bread.
Carpal tunnel pains me
while knitting, pulling
tiny stitches taut. Yesterday
I planned to make Thai chicken
in the crockpot, defrosted
meat, bought lemongrass,
basil & limes. Then
Liliane died & we drove
to New York midweek.
I dumped four pounds
of thighs into the ceramic vessel,
poured in paprika, cumin
& cayenne, a dose
of local barbeque sauce.
On Tuesday they harvested
six eggs from my body—
my ovaries sore & bloated
for days. Five mature,
four fertilized, two
healthy enough
to keep. One
inside me & one
in a freezer
in Waltham.