The banging door sends
Marjarah skittering
under the bed, only the pale yellow of her eyes
reflecting out. The woman in the hallway says,
“ Could I bum some sugar?” She slides a toe
over my threshold. “How much do you need?”
Her eyes catch the almost hidden cat, send her
wriggling deeper into shadow. “Just a cup.”
Pouring sugar out like time into the measure
cupped in her hands, I say, “I’ve heard you singing.”
Later, I pad barefoot,
soundless
up the scarred stairs to her door, colorless
in the yellow light of a dangling bulb. If I wanted,
I could enter, eat her brownies, eat her.
# # #
Baking with Jane by
Sari Krosinsky
originally published in the Winter 2010 print edition
|
Sari Krosinsky’s poems have recently appeared
in Adobe Walls, Collective Fallout, Contemporary
American Voices, Long Island Quarterly, Main Street
Rag and others. She edits Fickle
Muses, an online journal of mythic poetry and fiction. She received
a B.A. in religious studies and M.A. in creative writing from the University
of New Mexico. She lives in Albuquerque, N.M., with her partner and cat.
For
more of Sari's work,
visit her Big Pulp author page
This feature and more great
fiction & poetry are available in
Big Pulp Winter 2010:
Ted Bundy's Beetle
Purchase books and subscriptions
in the Big
Pulp book
store!
|
|
