The banging door sends Marjarah skittering
under the bed, only the pale yellow of her eyes
reflecting out. The woman in the hallway says,
“ Could I bum some sugar?” She slides a toe
over my threshold. “How much do you need?”
Her eyes catch the almost hidden cat, send her
wriggling deeper into shadow. “Just a cup.”
Pouring sugar out like time into the measure
cupped in her hands, I say, “I’ve heard you singing.”

Later, I pad barefoot, soundless
up the scarred stairs to her door, colorless
in the yellow light of a dangling bulb. If I wanted,
I could enter, eat her brownies, eat her.

# # #

Baking with Jane by Sari Krosinsky
originally published in the Winter 2010 print edition

 

 


Sari Krosinsky’s poems have recently appeared in Adobe Walls, Collective Fallout, Contemporary American Voices, Long Island Quarterly, Main Street Rag and others. She edits Fickle Muses, an online journal of mythic poetry and fiction. She received a B.A. in religious studies and M.A. in creative writing from the University of New Mexico. She lives in Albuquerque, N.M., with her partner and cat.

For more of Sari's work,
visit her Big Pulp author page

 

This feature and more great
fiction & poetry are available in
Big Pulp Winter 2010:
Ted Bundy's Beetle

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