by Caitlin McKenzie
Can a yolk run cautiously? Maybe it can try but its sunshine enthusiasm can’t be
contained, even if it’s a first meeting. It erupts and says, “My heart knows your heart!
There is comfort here!”
Caramelized Pork Ramen
We needed to learn the lessons of simmering. Sitting together in the peeled ginger,
chili paste, brown sugar, chicken broth, mushrooms, and 5 spice. Becoming fragrant.
Picking bones out of canned salmon like I picked the sorrows out of you. Place them
on a commemorative plate, thin and white as paper. We name them and set them
aside. I’ll add fresh dill to the flesh we can use, fry it, and call it a night.
Fresh Spring Rolls
When you wrap a garden in rice paper and dip it in peanut sauce is there
anything else to do but laugh? Our eyes still crinkle when they are swollen from crying
and the seeds we swallowed whole grow in our bellies when I leave your house.
Caitlin McKenzie (she/they) is a queer neurodivergant poet and collage artist based out of Barrie, ON. Her work can be seen in publications such as Pink Plastic House Magazine, The Northern Appeal, Aurora Mag, and Acta Victoriana. You can find more of her work at her own tiny Instagram zine @therememberingroom.