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POETRY

Seven Floors Up to the Kitchen of the Soul
by Cati Porter

The house has one door.
The house has one open door.
The house has one bourbon-hinged jangling dancing open door.

The women say, C'mon inside.
The women say, C'mon an' have a drink inside.
The women say, C'mon an' have a drink with all us mad mamas inside.

Hush-hush Hush-hush
Hush-hush Hush-hush

Slip up the stairs – don't wake the babies.
Slip up the stairs – don't wake the babies.
Slip up the stairs – don't wake the babies.
They're sleepin' on the stove.

We're all drunk. We're all drunk. We're all drunk with their love.

Up the flame....Stir the pot....Lick the spoon
Add salt..........Add stock.......Add wine.........Ain't those babies cute?

Our concoction is a potion. Salve, to save your soul.
Eat, drink, rub it in — baby in the bowl.

Cati Porter is a poet, reviewer, and editor of Poemeleon: A Journal of Poetry. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming from kaleidowhirl, Literary Mama, MotherVerse, Poetry Midwest, Poetry Southeast, and in the anthologies White Ink: Poems on Mothers and Mothering (Demeter Press), Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel—Second Floor (No Tell Books), and Letters to the World (Red Hen Press). She lives in Riverside, California, with her husband and two young sons. You may read more of her poetry here and here.