the grates of our grill had rusted through, and food sometimes just sat on the charcoal, in between cooked and uncooked
mom would pull a sheet cake from the fridge
once a year
though the frosting was ambiguous
in its commemoration
and the cake wasn’t meant to be eaten
or at least her fork never invited
the others
we’d stare in silence
until she’d mercifully put it back
it took up a lot of room
for something that provided neither nourishment or joy
but we didn’t ask her about it
we endured the peculiarity
and waited for the fridge to fail