by Barbara Duffey
—the first small, thin, unified-concept, mass-produced, fitted-cabinet kitchen
First, man had a
kitchen. For a
long time, it was
the only room.
It was bachelor
balm, it was stick-
stick-stock, it was
a family
sugar summer,
all nigh as God
when there are
just four walls. Then
after the war,
in its smoke-jack
world, there became
other, younger
rooms, and no room
for them there in
Germany. So
a lady made
a kitchen halved
like an oyster,
a kitchen cell,
a cook-alley.
There were many
and they purred right,
scarcely as wide
as a skillet.
Let us rejoice
in the spoon-space,
in the platter
cabinet, in the
penny-ouncer
tin-plate rice bin,
from the root, the
room, the roof, we
mouth our prayers in
their ample air,
standing by the
window in the
saucepan sun.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Duffey, assistant professor of English at Dakota Wesleyan University in Mitchell where she teaches creative writing, composition and literature courses, has written poetry for almost 25 years, since her fifth-grade instructor told the class to write similes., “He also had us write Mother’s Day poems to our mothers, ” Duffey said. “I actually think my mother still has the poem I wrote for her, Mother’s Day 1991. My parents were always supportive of my writing.”
Last updated December 24, 2014