after Charles Jensen
She slices apples for lunch in happy return, at least, to vegetarianism. Packs almonds, granola bar, flip phone and gradebook. Fixes coffee to make possible two morning meetings of Comp. I. Grabs the keys, a spare umbrella from the hall closet. Unpacks her heart from the top shelf’s hatbox. Swallows it down with a gulp of mocha. Wishes she hadn’t. Especially when, remembering the school’s overactive a/c, she needs to head back to the bedroom for a cardigan. Passes the new room, the newest wound, the would-be nursery, now never to be used beyond spouse’s closet/storage room for dirty laundry. Beside its shut white door, she’s stuck in towering stacks of onesies tucked in mint green dresser drawers, the plush ladybug wall art, next year’s Goodwill donation, gathering dust on the bedroom floor.
Quiz on this section:
a. How does your reading of the passage change if the pronouns are switched from she to he…you…they?
b. How much more meat (round to the nearest pound, please) would the main character have needed to eat to save the baby?
c. During the year lease, how many times did the protagonist pass the never-to-be nursery? (Closest guess wins a spare copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting, which has sections on being pregnant while “Vegetarian” and “Red-Meat-Free.”)
d. Were those ladybugs ever hung on a living child’s wall? If so, attach the room’s diagram (preferably hand-drawn).
Click here to read Jill Michelle on the origin of the poem.
Image by cottonbro studio on pexels.com, licensed under CC 2.0.
- Nutrition Problems - January 22, 2025