by Joanna Gilman Hyde

The Hawk Kitchen Outpost 3:28pm

I take out

My Star-studded Kitchen Mat

& shake It in The Wind —

I sweep the mangled cobwebs

off My Sliding Glass Door —

I keep My Green-checked Apron on

over My Peachy Capris

& cross My Knees

in My Grandmother’s

Wrought-iron Kitchen Chair

preparing to call a friend