Becca Yenser

One yellow onion almost forgotten

And three sweet potatoes mildewing

From the outside in. A cup of milk

Left on the counter a little too long,

Sharp cheddar cheese from the

Discount bin at Smith’s: two dollars

From a bank account of twenty.

Will this be worth it? I ask.

This is a question I often ask.

I am trying to get warm,

From the outside in. That’s

Why I am dressed like someone

Going into battle on the frontlines

Of a protest, bandana over mouth

And nose. I scare my father.

He is trying to watch TV.

The onions are wilting

But the cheese stands firm, unwavering,

Such willpower.

When it is done, I will try to eat

Half the pan, and leave some for

Someone else. Not you. You

Cannot swallow enough wind

To fly here, and your car is slowly

Dying, despite your love.

What I like about casseroles is,

In the beginning, it’s nearly impossible to believe

This will become something we want to eat.