MAGGIE SAWKINS

Celery Soup
 

I fetch the chair from the Formica table
to reach into the cupboard

take the butterfly opener
from the drawer and turn and turn
till the ragged edge lifts.

The creamy liquid plops into the pan
and I stir in a figure of eight
the way she taught me to.

I lay the tray with salt and pepper
arrange triangles of sliced white bread.

I carry it up to her bedroom
where she is propped against the pillow,
steam warms her face but she doesn’t smile
because every Friday they burn her skin
and they’ve taken her breast away.

It feels like a dream

except my footprints are still there
embedded in the blueness
of a blue kitchen chair.

Alina Olimpia Miron

Maggie Sawkins
 

Supa de telina

Iau scaunul de la masa de formica
Ca sa ajung la dulap

Sa iau deschizatorul de future
Din sertar si sa strang, sa strang
Pana marginea zgrunturoasa se ridica.

Lichidul cremos pleosc! in tigaie
Si eu amestec in forma de opt
Cum m-a invatat ea.

Presar tava cu sare si piper
Cu triunghiuri de paine alba taiata.

O duc sus in camera ei
Unde ea-i rezemata de o perna,

Aburii-i incalzesc fata
dar ea nu zambeste
pentru ca in fiecare vineri
ei ii ard pielea si i-au luat sanul.

Pare un vis

Numai ca urmele pasilor mei sunt inca acolo
Intiparite in albastrul scaunului din bucatarie.