In search of story


Connections: December 12.17

My last two kitchens had islands

the ultimate luxury

the kitchen I live with now

is bestowed more modestly.

So I follow the ways of my grandmas

and my mother, apt and able,

enlisting our four-legged friend,

the enduring kitchen table.

But I have a homey bauble

with which they weren’t stuck

a low-hanging ceiling lamp

which I cannot remember to duck.

Hovering over the table

at just the exact right spot

it clunks against my head

and elicits descriptive bon mot.

Some day I’ll explain to my neighbors

the reverberant mystery

the gong heard ’round the ‘hood

it isn’t Big Ben — it’s me.


Yes, I know, dear reader. I took liberties with my French. It was too awful not to use.




Connections: December 29.16

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERAThere are unbelievers

I have heard

who think that Jello

is table’s nerd

they wouldn’t have it

on their plate

its commonness

too profligate.

Their families haven’t

gathered ’round

to listen for

that Jello sound

a sign of

gastronomical luck

like foot pulled out of

deep deep muck.

There’s science and art

both delicate and tough

to make the mold

disgorge its stuff,

and nothing speaks

of drama unfolded

like cheering for

the jiggly unmolded.

So hoorar for the Jello

and family rite

may we hold to such memory

with good appetite.