oh shit i yell, & you turn the fan on as i bounce
around the kitchen shaking my finger making
shit shit shit my refrain. alleluia.
you grab a stick of cold butter because that’s what
your mama’s mama told her & she told you. i ask
for ice because my mama says butter makes the skin
sizzle, & i don’t know if grandma told her that
or if she learned from experience but now we
giggle-argue, you by the refrigerator door shaking butter
at my face, me by the sink baptizing my forefinger
with cold cold water. alleluia.
& the oven still smokes from whatever it is i burned.
this time. & i remember: hey wait a minute! you turned
the fan on before checking on me! & you laugh.
so hearty and juicy. i want to call you asshole but instead
say my god, you’re so hot. allelu.