Monday, April 23, 2012

Poetry Monday

Cook Until Done
by Katie Vagnino

For my parents, who met in an adult class called “Cooking for Singles”
On the first day, they made consommé.
The way his hands cracked the eggs,
Whipped their whites into a frenzy
Stirred something forgotten inside her.
The way his hands cracked the eggs
Made her wonder how he’d handle her–
Something forgotten stirred inside
When he finally asked her out on a date.
He wondered how she’d handle herself
When he ordered Chianti at dinner.
On the date, he asked all the usual things,
Noticed her eyes were hazel like his.
He ordered more Chianti at dinner when
She said their matching initials were a sign.
She noticed his eyes were hazel like hers;
He stroked her hand, offered to drive her home.
Matching initials must be a sign, she said,
Picturing pairs of monogrammed towels.
He stroked her hand, invited her to his home.
Eight months later she was still there,
Picturing pairs of monogrammed towels.
Watching him was like waiting for water to boil.
Eight months later she was still there
Without a ring, not getting any younger,
But a watched pot never boils.
At last she proposed an ultimatum:
“I need a ring. I’m not getting any younger.”
That September, he caved in
At last to her ultimatum: a proposal
To consummate their love in marriage. One day
Eighteen Septembers later, it all caved in;
Both were whipped, but the frenzy was gone.

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