2-26-21

Two people in a kitchen, pinching the corners on hamantaschen.

A
In the winter we study the mushrooms, in the spring we pull them up.
Waiting for months while the networks develop, and while we wait, what then?

B
What flavors are you doing?

A
Poppyseed.

B
I always reach for the poppyseed thinking it’s chocolate.

A
And a savory one, with room in the middle for onion jam.

B
Savory! I would never think to do that.

A
A little rosemary folded into the dough.

B
How are the kids?

A
They spent the week chopping up pillows—tonight we’ll take them down to the nesting site dressed as waterfowl and they’ll throw all the house bread at geese. Wrong holiday, but the honking makes them laugh.

There’s a person down there who circles them, the one who runs charlesriverwhitegeeseblog.blogspot.com, so I keep my hands like this on their shoulders, like they are the cliff and the ground is just open air.

B
I’ve seen his facebook group.

A
Then again, I suppose it’s good to have a cause.

B
Someone needs to protect the geese. If he doesn’t have kids, who else could he clutch?

A
Maybe.
How are you spending your Purim?

B
I also went down to the river, looked over the hill that descends onto Storrow, saw a man with a vest skitter behind the trees, searching.
Took a pensive moment before the wind knocked over my box of free Hillel tacos and I ran after them as they tumbled, toothpick limp out of my mouth, mask a hammock around my chin, the woman I lied to to get out of donating watching me chase my artificial meat across the highway’s banks.
This is who you saved, Esther and Mordechai and Ahasuerus.

THE KIDS come thundering in, spilling feathers in the batter.

THE KIDS
POO
POOO
POOOOOOOOOO
POOOOOOOOOOOORIM

POOPOOPOOPOOPOO

B
This is who you saved.