Becoming a Matriarch

Polishing the sink at dawn
After emptying the ashes
Staring into the depths of the stove
Scooping with ladle
Making way for more fire

Curating a gallery of legumes and grains
Sliding buckets of rice and cake flour
Counting currants for clafoutis
Evading inquisition and criticism of those who

"Don't care about that."

Polishing the oven door 
Cleaning the glass to see the
Cake belly rising
Braiding my hair in the dark
Caressing the foreheads of dreaming children
Watching their faces age on our pillows

Advising, admonishing, witnessing
The patterns that are the blueprints of 
Who we are

"Not everything has to make sense."

To me it does
To sense is to
Taste, smell, hear, touch
The flavor of reality

Boiling a jammy egg
Crisping fish skin on cast iron
Bare feet shuffling on clean floor
The porcelain depths of a scrubbed toilet
Holding strands of vegetable peels
An offering to the microbes

I understand now
My grandmother's scouring her coffee mug
Aunty protecting herself from our help
Learning to swiftly zipper into her systems
Mother not knowing what to do

Polishing the sink at dawn
Every drop vanishing into steel
Brush strokes paint a sheen
So reflective
You can look back 
Generations

BOARD MEETING

financially speaking we don’t see enough storm clouds on the horizon to pull back, 
though you could always save for a rainy day 

the men go on cracking jokes, electric cars and fly swatters

flirting calms them they feel better 

about the world 

the women stay muted, smile the way women smile when they can see

their own smiles, nodding cheekbones silent laughter to move along

consensus through items until designated

end 

it was great to be with you all 

other gadget chatter

you give me such hope

wife quoted quoting Buckminster Fuller something about 

creating new paradigms

goodbye! goodbye! goodbye! 

Population

Population

A red metal frog plays the sax

like he means it in the back corner 

of the front lawn of a brick house

along the 10-blocks I walk with a 4-year old.

Technically we’re going to the library.

We stand for some time, as we do.

Sonny says, Wanna see what that frog looks like?

I say, Yeah. And he does an impersonation 

of the frog and the saxophone.

I say, You know I never even noticed that —

and I don't want to say, Woman

with the breasts, so I say Mermaid

except she isn’t. More, an ocre-colored siren. 

Sonny says, the one leaning back? Yeah.

Then a man’s voice 

from under the cover of the front porch.

Was he there the whole time?

Every time?

He says, I’m glad you like my garden.

I say, We do. We do. We look at each other 

across the lawn. Beads on a necklace.

Good Morning, Britain

 And how do you do

it

how'd you do it

before I'd seen you;

heard the dogs bark

at the it's always 

darkest before dawn,

watched the phone tower

between me and the airport

take form in relief

against the rising sun,

had your morning dew

evaporate and clear

my sinuses of the 20

Lamberts I'd smoked

on the evening shift,

before I'd even travelled north

waking up damper

and damper, so damp

in the Wild Bean cafe

snatching at buffet bars,

long scotch eggs 

full of rancid

coleslaw 

and Clubs for the mouth feel,

dreary in the van

the BNP in Wrexham

and the van passed my other

on its ghost lap slowing

down for lunch in a pub

in the Peak District

how'd you do it before the

mist this morning on Skillman

said new weird old York

and I said this morning,

moistening me,

is different.

      

blueberries hot off the bush
with that cloudy white sheen
i could cry
at the steam shadow
cast on bricks
the green construction fabric
shredded and billowing in the wind
all in a day
and the days keep rolling in
sky bright and big-enning

Have World—Domination Haiku variation

Have World—Domination Haiku 

variation

Tis a free country 

for the riches it steals free-

ly in the hemis fear

____________

January 7, 2026