LI QING ZHAO’S KITCHEN
Carrie Chang
Some say
My kitchen would
Be bitchin’, but
I don’t have one,
I’m too poor, perhaps
A yellow cookie window,
Or a lattice, morning door,
Some spatulas so oh-la-la
To make the canola beans
Go dizgotic happy, I do
Not have a kitchen sink,
That squeezes out water
Snappy; The sweeter bit
Of all my dreams lies in
A kitchenette with tall
Ice creams, and screaming
Sherbets, wasteland pears,
Things I stuff in my bedroom,
Beside my underwear; I’m
So dour, beside the hour,
Fantasy was full-born thus,
My fishnet stockings are
Derby red, if I don’t have
A kitchen, it’s better to be
Unfed; and seeing as I hate
To cook, it’s better to comb
My hair with three hooks.
Carrie Chang is the editor of this fine journal. She is the author of “Monkey-town,” and “Fairytale Origami” and has a fetish for egg-foo-yung, among other wowsy ambrosia. She is a descendent of Anhui, and enjoys eating raisins for breakfast. It’s yum!