Shawn Aveningo-Sanders
Island-Style Breakfast at Night
My favorite thing in our kitchen
is the island where together, we cook.
I can’t flip an egg to save my life,
so over-easy is up to him. I wash
the rice for the cooker, sauté chunks
of Maui onion with thick slices of Spam,
stirring them in an indulgence of butter.
Skillful as a sous chef, he slivers a mango
and finger-feeds me a taste test. I watch him
suck the clinging remnant from its pit. I can’t
resist a nibble on his bottom lip. He tells me
tales from his time on Kwajalein, the horrid
history of Bikini, and how the Marshallese
would sing—their children’s glee, kicking
a red ball in the sand, absent shoes
but not their smiles. Dead Can Dance
on our stereo, their tribal rhythms
enrapturing us. The rice cooker beeps
to the beat.
stars singing
a horoscope
of leftovers
About the Author
Shawn Aveningo-Sanders’s poems have appeared in ONE ART, Calyx, Quartet, MacQueen’s Quinterly, and Amsterdam Review, among other journals. She is the author of What She Was Wearing and the forthcoming Pockets (MoonPath Press), a finalist in the Concrete Wolf Chapbook Contest. A mother of three and Nana to one, she shares the creative life with her husband in Oregon.