Poetry
Nina Craig
How to Make a Quiche
My mother never let me cook. I admit,
I did not know whipping cream could turn into
butter so quick. She did let me butter toast
and set the table. In the aftermath, I ferried
the dead and wounded dish and glass (the lucky
ones had only chips and cracks) and airlifted
the injured knives and forks to the sick bay where
their wounds were tended to, where they were washed
and dried and ordered to rest [sigh]. I did my best.
I was not to blame when our bird flew into
the hot grease of chicken frying for my
birthday party. Nor was I responsible
when the pressure cooker blew its top and
covered the kitchen walls with tomato sauce.
I loved Home Ec. I had my own sink and stove.
I learned to make casseroles. Oh joy, pasta
mixed with meat and vegetables. Opposite of
a farmer’s plate of meat and potato, sitting solo.
No worries – I picked a man that played guitar.
I married one so kind, I believed he was
a sanctuary. He promised we would live
on love, hashish and cheap wine. After all that
I found out it was only temporary.
Oh well. I learned how to make spinach quiche.
Nina Craig is a citizen of northern Michigan’s Little Traverse Bay Band of Odawa Indians. She was raised in the Upper Peninsula and now resides in Kalamazoo, Michigan, where she writes poetry and memoir and is active with local and regional poetry and writing groups. She is a member of the Eastern Shore Writers Association board of directors and Swamp Fire Writers. Her work has appeared in U.P. Reader, the Saginaw Chapbook Project’s anthology Among the Happy Poets: Theodore Roethke’s Influence in a Time of Disruption, and the Poetry Society of Michigan’s blog.