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the Chosen Few
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the Chosen Few     Enjoy this 2015 Chicago open mic book
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by assorted Chicago open mic writers
as performed in shows from 2012-2015
at “the Café Gallery” open mic as a 6"x9"
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The Importance of Cooking Oil

Estebban Colon

oil in glass,
is
fresh,
not like the
reused oil in plastic containers from youth,
held in
pan till cool, my
stubby fingers
grabbing
leftover odds and ends of meat, still
stuck to the bottom, before
pouring it in, watching the
caramel wave
leak
over the top, threaten to
never stop pouring.

left
in the kitchen,
next to the stove, a
constant reminder that
everything
can be fried,
of our
dominion
over fire, our
access to food
(of some sort)
at all times,
warmth
of knowing the difference
between broke
and poor.

oil in glass.
covered,
waiting for use in
an
open dining room, inviting
the world see, stretching
loving arms ‘round living room, a
house united
living
like families used to,
glass
on the table, looking out
on manicured lawn, reminds me
that green
is no thicker than red, brown
skin always pulling out
sandwich bags,
plastic bags,
Tupperware,
too old to worry about returning,
sending
guests home with
edible snapshots
of holidays,
holy days, simple
celebrations, where
no welcome was
overstayed till
sun rose again, let
water break
till
the next day’s possibilities
strove towards adolescence.

I
had oil in plastic,
reciting
“waste not want not”
in
empty space,
framed
by three couches, my
blinds opened enough to
let lights in,
didn’t
want third floor neighbors
to watch me walk around naked, and
. . . it
wasn’t the same,
my
home was more a cave, a
glorified bedroom,
that
oil never rested in
freezer bags, old
take home containers, sat
solitary
on the counter.

oil in glass
marks matriarchy,
queens with
kings despite the lack of need for one,
reaching
gentle hands
upon each peasant
who is one
by one,
embraced
like family.



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