Emily Vizzo

Kitchen Talk

I am chopping tomatoes, earning my keep.

Next will be olives and goddess sauce.


What burns me is the free ride, I tell you.

How he will marry, how he will live a good life.


And where does that leave my sister?

And where does that leave anyone?


You are considering this in your wet apron.

His wife will know, you say.


And I don’t know what is worse, that she will not know

or that she will know.


Where do these men go afterward?

Someone must love them.


I stand at the counter with my big knife,

ready to cut into anything.


You carefully hold a stack of warm, clean plates.

You say: Please remember to love the world.


You do not lean away from the blade.

A man, you say: We must, we must be kind.