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Elizabeth Kate Switaj
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Read my latest story, "The All-Nighter", at 52|250. Thanksgiving 1989 seven hours on linoleum
cracking & mildewed at the edge
while children wave to Santa
at the end of a parade
televised from somewhere they've never been
in their black cardboard pilgrim hats
and the girl gets called to help
among the sizzle smells & greasy sounds
it's only slipping cranberry
sauce from a can
she has her own perfection
demanded in those seconds
to keep the bitter sweetened mush
in shivering shape of can
she's supposed to graduate in 1999
she's supposed to then move on
to perfections of flesh
gravy stuffing
& marshmallows on yams
can't all be facing the same way
lest they look planned
and she's supposed to graduate
to making her own pilgrims
she's already sworn she'll teach them
it was wrong to kill the indians
be thankful anyway
next year's turkey will be her last
bite into moistened meat
she'll think it's no less chaotic
than if she stuck the carving knife in her own thigh
thigh & thigh, breast & breast
only she has no wings
Thanksgiving 2009
whiskey & Guinness
on a flat stained carpet
stuffing & cranberries
will be bought next week on discount
honey, call your mother
she never killed
those birds
written as a fictionalized response to read write prompt #102: memory recipes Related articles by Zemanta
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I’m taken with how the line breaks and simple acts, or simple future acts, wrestle with gender issues and expectations. I like that. A lot.
Deb’s last blog ..The Occasioned Meal
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I like the way the traditions are passed on with a new twist and the angst that causes. This is a wonderful reflection. Thanks for sharing!
Linda Fraser’s last blog ..READ,WRITE PROMPT #102: FOOD
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I like how the young girl has her own standard for performing the small but important chore and the expectation of chores to come.
Derrick’s last blog ..Border Brains.
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This is very moving and powerful. I really like how the food in the poem is homely in how it is described and sensed, and how this evokes the girl’s squalor, the ironic demand for “thanksfulness” and the tenseness of an atmosphere that is murderous almost to the point self destruction, though the girl never escapes the guilt she feels, which she can’t distinguish from love.
David Moolten’s last blog ..Those Winter Sundays
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The memories have a sad and slightly jaded feel about them, those traditions that are so important to some and yet meaningless to others. I especially liked the ending – the fast forward to the future. Very good.
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and she’s supposed to graduate
to making her own pilgrims
she’s already sworn she’ll teach them
it was wrong to kill the indians
be thankful anyway
I like the way you structure this. The disappointment. Plans unfulfilled. Failings of others. And yet: the call to thankfulness despite/because of it all. Nice, Elizabeth.
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I think it’s interesting that the speaker ends up without the things she seems to be rejecting – family, domesticity,intimacy.
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Thanks everyone. It’s interesting to see the different aspects people focus on.
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