Not such a hard thing to do
if you have the right appliances.
A radio is essential: that voice in the background
eases you into the day
like a breakfast egg into water.
For that, of course, you need a stove,
a poet, a spoon or two--
one of those beautifully turned pepper-mills. preferably teak.
If you stay in the kitchen it's amazing how much space
you can fill:
a coffee-grinder, blender, garlic press,
all manner of intricate knife.
Emergency rations: instead of baked beans
smoked oysters, a bottle of brandy.
These things taste best at 2 a.m.
when the rest of the house is cold.
You wake up dreaming you're asleep in the fridge,
there's so much white space beside you.
From Running in Prospect Cemetery: New and Selected Poems (2004) by Susan Glickman