Zen Baptist Beset By Exploding Cobbler
hot rubies scatter-shot
glass pan on the stove
wrong burner turned on
Which indicates a certain lack of mindfulness.
The strangest, biggest, most dangerous mess
I’ve made—smoldering chunks of glass,
In every corner, pitiful globs of cobbler.
glass kernel, kidney stone
shiny spar lodged fast
jagged rock in my foot
I guess I could have left it in. I am less attracted
To penance than repentance,
However. So I dug it out.
narrative of our wood floor
charred spots, berry-brown
distraction, my besetting sin
It sounded like a shotgun blast.
It smelled like burned perfume.
I’m so glad I had seconds before it all went away,
Strawberries and rhubarb and June.
—Marnie Bullock Dresser, Spring Green, WI
