Literary Kitchen Quick Write: Something You Made



Here is one of the great secrets of our times. Lisa cannot do things with her hands. Puppets without eyes, toy boats banged together with nails head straight to the bottom of the drainage backup puddle, corn that was fried not boiled, caked onto the bottom of a cast iron pan, these things were strewn across my childhood like the parts of a many limbed artists doll model crushed in the driveway. I was much better at disassembling. Debbie Dominguez and I would cruise the streets of our neighborhood in Northwest Detroit on our bicycles, looking for interesting garbage to pull into pieces, washing machines and stoves were pulled apart, bright wires and dials our booty. Leaking bean bags were completely cut open, and we looked for treasures inside like they were a box of Cracker Jacks. We found broken watches, thermostats, kitchen items that no longer worked. I wish I could tell you that we discovered that we knew how to put the pieces of these abandoned objects back together and sold them at a sidewalk lemonade stand. We didn’t. We tore the machine apart, but we elected not to make it whole. We left it there to rust behind our garages, not important enough to rage against.

This entry was posted in Blog. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *