Poem: In the kitchen

In the kitchen

A kitchen’s a place where you cook

And maybe also eat

But you knew that

 

In the kitchen we set the table

And clear it again

Load and empty the dishwasher

 

In the kitchen we wrap birthday gifts

We read the newspaper in the morning

We check our email

 

In the kitchen we do our homework

We put away the groceries

Sneak a few cookies

 

In the kitchen we call 911

Because we’re not sure if we’ve got enough credit on our cell phone,

Which is a stupid thing to think:

911 is free

 

In the kitchen we’re unable to answer the operator’s questions

‘Is she breathing? Does she have a pulse?’

We don’t know:

We’re in the kitchen and she is outside

 

In the kitchen we hear our dad yell our name

His panic twists something inside of us

It makes us want to end the call:

We don’t, because the operator is still giving instructions

 

In the kitchen we secretly hope that everything will be fine

By the time we go outside

It isn’t:

But it isn’t over either

 

We don’t, like Taylor Swift, dance around by the refrigerator light

(though that must be nice)

We cook, we do our homework and we call 911

That’s about it