TO MY WIFE (IN THE KITCHEN ATTEMPTING PANCAKES)
Let go of the skillet
and your fear of failure. Every day we live
is a reminder of how God muffed it: think
of the forty days and forty nights. How many times
will you stand at the stove, stirring
a coagulating mixture of flour, eggs and milk?
Your bangs frizzing in the heat
rising from the smoking pan. Not even faith can help you
now. Come into the study, sit on my chair’s armrest
and be lit by the monitor’s dumb light. Look
over my shoulder, check my grammar, spelling.
Tell me I’ve got the ingredients wrong.
—from Rattle #11, Summer 1999
