“17 Stones #4″ by Jenna Kuiper
Grilled Cheese at the Rehab Center
A menu option for every meal
and my mother takes it
perfect food for the blind
no spillage of excess onto the plate
or smeared across her face.
Cheese, the glue holding it all together.
Like the gripped hands of prayer.
And it’s warm with the greasy illusion
of a cooked meal. Fuck the pasta,
fuck the peas, fuck the uncut meat
and in God’s Holy Name, fuck the soup.
Oh, the dignity of the grilled cheese
almost dainty in her clawed fingers.