the sinkhole beneath the kitchen table.

there's a sinkhole beneath
the kitchen table.
it swallows
family members like uneaten
green beans--my grandfather
was easy because he was
only a mason jar full of
ashes & the golden
handle of a cane--
this easter is the smallest
holiday my family has ever
witnessed but we 
still don't acknowledge
the hole under the table.
if we did-- that would only
make it more pleased--
the key is to ignore
these things-- pretend
you didn't watch your
grandmother slowly pulled
from the white chair--
she gripped the edge of the table
with her red-manicured
finger-nails clawing
to hold on--
she couldn't put up
much of a fight because the
hole is swift--
it's precise & it
knows when it wants to
engulf something--
it chews the memories left
in our bones--
gnashes femur & fork
& knife--
leaves more empty chairs.
joey fills 
newly vacant seats at the
table with stuffed animals
& plastic dinosaurs
for where our family members
used to sit--
my mother doesn't agree with 
me that because
i think that the china set is
cruel-- smug & too gold
for us-- we've never
been a family for china--
i don't understand why 
we need to set so many 
empty places
at the table only to watch the 
people sucked down
beneath us-- we have
never asked much about where
they go-- it's always been
more about the exit.
sometimes it leaves
their shoes.
my aunt's modest 
red heels still
wait by the front door
as if she's coming back--
each show 
was spat one by one
into the air when
the rest of her body was
consumed--
i keep a white plate 
because things are easier that
way-- twirl a fork--
take bites of thick & 
buttery air between us--
we use the poinsettia 
napkins-- 
unfold them on our
laps like we're at the tavern
again & billy & i
order chicken fingers--
i steal the red cherry from his
sundae--
i look up to see it's only
me & toys 
at every other chair--
i check to see
if my mother is still stirring
a pot
or if my father is holding
a glass of diet coke
& staring out the window
towards the garage--
i shovel a mouthful
of air onto the fork--
drop the china plate 
on the speckled red floor & 
i watch
the sinkhole nibbles
away at the shards--
it's gentler than i thought
it was--
i can't help being hungry.