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There's a Mystery Maker in the Kitchen
by Francine DuBois

For Mittens DuBois-Dugan

No one believes me when I tell them God visits me in the kitchen:
His frosty ethereal reflection in my good silver,
Omniscent breath echoing from my husband's coffee mug,
And his fruitful bounty caked onto the stoneware.

We chat of small things: the ants of Nepal,
Christian theory, and my place in the home.
I pour him a Dr. Pepper, he sits on the counter,
And I make spaghetti. He compliments my sauce.

My husband's footsteps down the linoleum-coated hallway
Chase God away. He vaporizes down the garbage disposal
While I begin the real work of the day.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
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