Takeout Order
By Kara L.C. Jones

To place a takeout order
for dinner is so easy.
You decide what you want
on your taste buds and
simply dial the phone.

But in my house,
we used to cook as much
as takeout-that is to say,
there was balance until
Dakota died-since my son's
death, we take out way more
than we cook in.

And takeout is not so easy now.
My husband cannot trust me
to dial the phone and
place our order.
On more than one
occasion, my husband
has caught me
arguing with the waiter
on the other end of the phone.

When the waiter
answers my call, he says,
"May I take your order please?"
To which, I'm suppose to
easily answer, "One order
of Channa Marsala with
steamed rice, some Aloo Gobi, and
a side of Nan, please."
But instead I often
snap back angrily at the waiter
almost yelling at him,
"Yes, you can take my order
and please get it right this time.
I want one perfectly
healthy baby boy with
ten fingers and ten toes
and a perfectly good
brain, spine, and heart
and this time
he needs to be breathing!"

The man at the other end
of the phone line is often surprised
and shocked at my request
and will demand, "Is this
some kind of a joke,
young lady?!?" which just
pisses me off more and I
yell back, "It is not a joke, buddy,
I'll tell you what a joke is! A Joke
is being pregnant all that time
and then giving birth to death!
Now damn it, Mister, are you
going to deliver my
baby the right way or not?!?"

At this point my husband
is so frustrated and upset
with me that he just
severs the connection
probably wishing he had been
able to cut my son's
umbilical cord with this
kind of success. And I'm
sobbing, and he's freaking,
and the phone is beeping
with the sound of being
disconnected but not quite
hung up, and I say,
"I think I'm hung up
on Kota's death," and
my husband says, "Let's
hang the tears out to dry
and order a pizza for dinner
instead."

But this time, he calls
and appropriately answers
by saying, "We'll take a large
with extra cheese and a 2 liter
of root beer, please."

And I am disappointed
that my son
won't be resurrected
in tonight's
take out dinner.

from the forthcoming KotaPress book The Good Wife

Kara lives on Vashon Island which is a much more awesome place than she ever imagined it would be. She is a poet, bookmaker, wife, teacher, bereaved mom, facilitator, receptionist, founder, struggling p.t.barnum, turtle faithful, editor, artist, and a million other things that will prevent you from putting her in any one particular label box! Kara teaches through local art centers, artists in the schools programs, KotaPress and independently. To find out more about her, see:

http://www.KotaPress.com/kara/karajones.htm

And her class Expanding Poetry is now available in an online format from CourseBridge.com where you can register today at:

http://www.coursebridge.com/html/courses/writing/cbep01.asp