GRANDPA MADE THE BEST STUFFING

Grandpa made the best stuffing,
stick to the ribs moist,
saged and thyme,
he’d skewer that bird from its roasting pan,
dig deep with weathered paw
to free its succulence,
steam framing his concentration.

While Uncle Joe bent low
to tie an imaginary shoelace
and leer at the underside
of my mother’s skirt,
as dad argued football
with the men
in testosterone huddles.

Grandpa tolerated Joe for Leota’s sake,
Leota of the brooding stare,
brown paper bag plain,
right hand cupping left wrist.
He tolerated him for her.

What was a working man to do?
He only had four daughters—
four daughters to his twelve sons,
a brood that kept him plucking and basting
the biggest bird the butcher could find,
fat and chopping block fresh.

I’d sit in my Sunday dress,
wide-eyed at the spread he’d lay—
Jesus with the loaves and fishes,
so we’d never know
that we did without.

D. Ouellet

YEAST

My brother is soft and unformed
like yeast
he looks like a lanky teenager
over 6 foot,
growing fuzz on his lip
pointing out girls in the yearbook
who “probably” have a crush on him
but he’s so soft
even a glance
crushes him
he attracts groups of boys
who mouth “f**k off, asian”
who spit on him
as he cycles to school

I want to sculpt him
into Michelangelo’s David
instant marble
monument
but it’s a slow painful
gaze I cast on his awkward back
curled over
’cause he hasn’t grown
into his height
yet
he says being a teenager
has “damaged” him

I laugh
tell him it gets better
bread rises slowly
takes months to grow the wheat
and grind it under the mill
of days.

Lily Chan (BlissBuddha)

SUNFLOWER GIRL

Before dark you’ll decline,
your brown eyes dropping
in cicada refrain,
in the peachy light of evening.

For me your best perfume,
as the hidden legs of crickets creak,
honeysuckle, cornhusks whisper June
running by in bare feet.

This is how I mark my days,
even in quiet crystalline winter,
your radiant rays
melting through my slumber

raising your sun-burned face
singing wind chimes and airplane drone
dandelion fluff and Queen Anne’s Lace
of love and things yet undone.

Bill Brando