Crumble

the spoils of our personal wars

we were falling apart
so we began to bake.

sourdough starts rose up
yeast disappeared from shelves

bread crusts posed on
instagram and all around

the crumble happened -- 
with no way to divvy up

the spoils of our personal
wars we spread butter

we ate up drank up
Netflix and Chewed

chained to our  
hot ovens our

snickerdoodle piles
america’s formica 

test kitchen’s counters
closing in as 

novelty melts
in summer--

sweetness recedes
more friends perish 

sleep deteriorates
families fragment.

open the furnace
stick the toothpick in

soon soon SOON?
next week -- 

next month
another day 

it’s sure to be done
pace the square again

try not to breathe--
set the timer.

just a smidgen
more

Today is Day 66 of my #100DayChallenge, writing a poem a day. Today’s prompt came from my friend, artist and performer Erin McGrane.

I have very visceral (physical) feelings about the first months of the pandemic. What are your memories?