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It's no secret you'll feel better if you cry
Memory, like your 78s, crackles
with use: this scene finds you, grampa, in the old kitchen again. At the
harvest table, you roll unfiltered Player's to the big baritone of Vaughn
Monroe, survey the room spread with grama's works-in-progress. Dough
toughens on the cutting board; supper's leathers waiting to be torn in
strips and dropped in hot beef gravy. Stacks of starched and ironed sheets
white against a blue colander of nectarines, black plums, a freckled brown
banana. On the windowsill, your deaf long-haired Heathcliff still twitches
his stump of tail over the crowded sideboard. He guards the antique
crockery and sniffs at canisters filled with sugar, coffee, rice. You sit
merry in a mess of mail and double-salted licorice and croon along with
Johnny Ray so let your hair down and go ahead and cry.
It's no secret you'll feel better if you cry
by Nashira Dernesch
NOTES:
Appeared in the chapbook,
It's no
secret you'll feel better
May 2007.
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