in the key of B major – 60 Jubilee East, the kitchen
________
coming down the staircase to the main
living areas, a wall on the left, a railing
on the right, after the ladders we’d
scramble up to our beds on while my
father was still building had been
removed, led to the kitchen
had the staircase wall continued, it
would’ve divided that larger, brighter
space from the smaller living room,
where we’d curl up in our pyjamas,
listen to music, watch television, in
grainy black and white then, until
the scheduling day had ended with
a test pattern, then just snow
but at the kitchen table, and from
very early on, discussions took
place about everything, my dad at
the head of the table, with his back
to the kitchen cupboards, my mom
at the opposite end surveying the
counter, my sister up against
the window, while I looked on
my grandmother would often
stand by the cupboards chewing
on a piece of something or other
she’d just served as she made
sure our places were all, and ever,
in order, with more sauce, more
potatoes, more lemon pie or
chocolate cake, if we desired,
before she left to go the bingo
what time is it, my father’d ask my
sister, the clock was above the sink,
whereupon she would become rattled,
disoriented, unable to even see the
clock, never mind the numbers there
swimming, would never get it,
therefore, right, to my dismay, to her
greater distress
just like my mom, I found later,
whenever I ask too pressing a question,
whereupon I presume I must have,
must have inherited, the temperament
of my dad, in my, not necessarily
disapproving, consideration
there are advantages to being held
to account, for both the held and
mercy must always, and invariably,
be served
my dad had been in the war, believed
in discipline, as it was the ethos of
the time, father knew best, father
ran a tight ship, an unflagging one,
my father applied himself to being
a valiant example of such, and was
my mom, as was her duty then,
followed in my dad’s determined
footsteps, while my grandmother
looked on, wise with her years
I want to be as wise as my
grandmother, I remember telling
myself when I was young, that
was my greatest wish
on the back wall of the kitchen, the
stove from mid wall looked onto
the fridge, while the fridge looked
back on everything, I remember
when we first got the refrigerator
my mother cried, one would buy
things on instalment then, only get
it once it was paid, long before credit
I remember her burning the popcorn
at the stove, flying out the back door
with the popcorn grid all in flames,
long before microwaves
Richard
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