grand marais

the delicate slicing of
warm, hard-boiled eggs.

the quiver of the egg's
membrane as my brother and I
peel off the thin shell.

the liberal dolling out
of barbecue sauce on
pink, fleshy chicken.

the sloppy glopping
thoughtful forkfuls of tangy
miracle whip mixed
with celery chunks
and egg yolks.

I am careful in my
first time making
deviled eggs.

I am no longer a
deviled virgin.

the tap tap tap of
mathematical sprinkles
of paprika

...

these things remind
me of lois

...

her classy, polished
fingernails, the same
color as her leathery skin

her matching shoes and purse--
red leather.

her neat, manicured hands
holding a tray of
perfect deviled eggs

just paprika, no parsley

6.12.07