My Siblings Make Dinner at Mom’s by Kristin Kehl

I dreamt my teeth fell onto the tile

floor, my jaw clenched closed

so you took a crowbar to my

 

chapped lips, my tongue shriveled

into a salted snail or I guess now

you call it escargot. It’s funny

 

how cooked things change names.

If I were baked into a quiche, would

you stand in line at the courthouse or

 

at the DMV & rename me a delightful

dish, a recipe to pass down to your

grandson in law? Surround me

 

at the next family dinner, at the dining

room table with wobbly legs. Pull me

apart with a fork. Make sure I am well

 

done. Brag about the hours spent

in the kitchen & when asked how you

made me, give a speech, something

 

like, step one: break the teeth.



Kristin Kehl is a senior at Florida State University, graduating with a degree in Creative Writing. She has work published in the Kudzu Review and forthcoming in Cat Family Records. Her work explores the transience in the intersections of identity and the forming of it. She hopes to pursue an MFA in Poetry in the near future. 

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