Variations of Domestic

Variations of Domestic

She's eyeing the kitchen again, waiting
for its next move: turning the spoons
inside out, mixing fingernail clippings
in with the flour, tangling the eggbeater
into her hair. She's gunshy of the grapes,
the peels shrinkwrapped over the liquid
insides, of teacups and their silly little
handles, delicate as fishbones.
When did the refrigerator suck out her
oxygen, leaving only freon to make
her go blind? How did this sun poke
holes in the carmex-sticky linoleum,
tripping up her bunny-headed slippers,
their ears gone to rot? Who is she to think
she could just flip these frothy
pancakes and not have them fly away,
all the way to Neptune?