Bio Note: I may have taught high school science for several decades, and then I morphed into a consultant for a few universities in the South and Midwest. My teachers provided ample opportunities to write. And I incorporated methods for learning about science using writing and reading in my classrooms. I've been fairly successful with publications, mainly for poetry. I breathe it.
I am licking the concave surface of the gold soup spoon, the gummy brown concoction sticking to its surface like gorilla glue. The alabaster cherub above the sink hangs by a thread of jute that surely must be weathered to the point of dropping into a sink full of plates and wine glasses, or onto someone’s head. I can see the blood already, feel its warmth attracting insects I’ve never seen. I am fingering the pottery bowls on the dining room table, extracting all of the goodness from the insides on polished interiors, the glaze reflecting an image of some food monster who can’t get enough, who never got enough, and who wants more and more and more. I fight with the dog for a piece of chicken leg, her tawny fur arched up along the ridge of her spine, a canine mountain preparing to defend what she thinks is hers. Anything that hits the floor— baby aspirin, partially-smoked joints, cookie crumbs, and fried chicken skin— was always hers. The rules have changed, Missy. These bones are mine.
©2021 John Dorroh
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