Maybe I should call this

something like "The Kitchen Sermons" or just
"Kitchen." Because,
standing there, stirring mushrooms and onions,
inhaling the sweet earth of it

my daughter says,
I broke the lamp because today is Halloween,
and that's damn funny when it happens in February,
deeply damn funny and it makes me want to smash other things
as well, other things for no good reasons

and then, on her way to bed, my big paw covering entirely
her little one, she says,
I'm gonna dream of flowers alright,
as if we had been talking about that, as if
that were obvious and true

in the kitchen where my son has illustrated
entire universes down to the handles
on the toilets, where my wife has wiped up
ground coffee beans for the 2,346th time,
and she doesn't even drink coffee
which is kind of the point.