To the Discarded Corn Husks Lying on the Kitchen Table After Christmas Dinner
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"Fallen Petals" by Stephen Briseño
To the Discarded Corn Husks Lying on the Kitchen Table After Christmas Dinner
by Stephen Briseño
You are el jefe
of items important
yet overlooked:
the snapped bones
of chopsticks left
in the phở bowl,
the butcher paper,
muted blood red,
soaking up the grease
a fatty brisket gives,
the bright cap
of a Topo Chico.
Then there’s you.
You are tamale’s girdle,
cinching just tight enough,
promising:
“Hold in there--
the steam es solo un momento;
y’all will be glorious once we’re done!”
In time before,
you were womb
to the ear
which, after drying,
soaking, then grinding
is now reborn within your veil.
Tonight, you are Christmas wrapping,
hiding gifts we’ve already peeked at
but relish shucking
open nonetheless.
Just how the living room, confettied with shards of paper
and love, is a sign of the season, so are you,
your scattered remains of tradition on the table,
marinated in generations of guelitas and tías with knobby
hands mixing masa, cinching nuestra familia together
in the ferocious steam of another year,
promising: “Hold in there-- y’all will be glorious once we’re done!”
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Stephen Briseño is a poet and middle school English teacher. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Mentor Mixtapes, 8Poems, formercactus, Riddled with Arrows, and Right Hand Pointing. He lives in San Antonio, TX with his wife and daughter, where you can usually find them lounging at a coffee shop. Follow him on Twitter: @stephen_briseno