Owen McLeod

Dream Kitchen

Each thing, ultimately,
is three connected things.

The earth, for example,
is sky, rock, and sea.

The Trinity, for some,
is another instance.

yet always overlooked
is your dream kitchen.

One part is in a penthouse
with a view of Central Park.

you’ve never been there,
but can almost imagine it—

granite countertops, an island
the size of Malta, vintage pots

dangling like weird copper bats
over restaurant-grade appliances.

The second is sold at Toys “R” Us.
Made mostly of bright plastic,

electronic features enhance
its realism, like a microwave

that beeps when the grenade-
shaped ear of corn is cooked.

The third is invisible.
It exists in your head,

ill-defined, unattached
to any rooms or house.

No fire or family is found in it.
The cupboards are usually bare.

yet each morning, first thing,
and sometimes in the middle of the night,

you find yourself there—shivering
over the stove, whispering

to its gods, waiting
for that empty kettle to cry.