In the garden this morning,
I knelt to pinch the basil back
and found a baby rabbit
mild and untouchable as a baked potato.
He'll be my guest tonight
sitting at the dream table between you and me
wearing a double-breasted aluminum jacket.
In the salad bowl, an argument Bill and I had about money—
crisp Lincolns tossed in a lemon vinaigrette.
Frank's cancer's a Charlotte Russe
lying like a stray bullet on the counter.
All our daughters are grown, Sarah.
Why still cook when the chairs are empty?
The mind's eye's for imagining,
but the mouth of the mind is a gullet
where our days empty out
—the everyday, the unbearable, and the good—
and the night kitchen serves it up with iced mint tea
as fast as we can wash it down.
TODAY IN SLATE
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But the next president might.
The Extraordinary Amicus Brief That Attempts to Explain the Wu-Tang Clan to the Supreme Court Justices
Amazon Is Officially a Gadget Company. Here Are Its Six New Devices.
The Human Need to Find Connections in Everything
It’s the source of creativity and delusions. It can harm us more than it helps us.
How Much Should You Loathe NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell?
Here are the facts.
The Plight of the Pre-Legalization Marijuana Offender
What should happen to weed users and dealers busted before the stuff was legal?