When It's Quiet in Your Kitchen

Open the little vegetable drawer
touch the broccoli and sigh--
your mother used to make it for dinner
as a side. Then take your place,
take your track lights and nook plus stools.
Take from the basket, center table,

an apple: to defend me from the elements,
hydrogen and--your mother never liked me.
Turn off the pace-maker,
tie your tie because death comes
with a raised brow from the east, or west,
or up through the plumbing,
and your produce can't protect me

By echoshindig