Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Dinner, Piano, Kitchen Table

A poem inspired by three words/phrases.



Kitchen Table

My kitchen table has become my office.

My piano my salvation,

And my dinner an after thought.

It’s not really a kitchen table because it’s in the dining room.

But it’s small and could be in the kitchen if the kitchen was big enough.

It was in the kitchen when I was living in a house. 

Now I’m in an apartment, 

with a small kitchen,

and a dining area that melts into the living room.

My piano is in the living room.

I didn’t play it much in my house.

Now that I’m in an apartment looking out over the city,

I use the bench to sit and play and sing for friends.

Ukulele, piano, and sometimes guitar.

Live, unfiltered, unrehearsed,

For whoever stops by to listen,

In the virtual world we are now living in.

Sometimes there’s time for dinner before the concert.

Sometimes, walking and researching the evening playlist

results in dinner coming after the show.

The table and piano are always there. 


Dinner takes work.

The table holds my work.

The piano lets me forget about work.

Why does it always come down to work?

Three simple words or phrases,

And somehow it comes down to the one thing I do

That isn’t about living.

Well, maybe I should restate that.

If I didn’t work I couldn’t live.

But it’s the piano that sets me free from work.

The kitchen table allows me to work without going to an office.

The dinner is the fuel to keep going.

Time for dinner. Time to play the piano.

Time to work at the kitchen table. 

Time to eat at the kitchen table.

Time to clean the table.

Somehow the table is the hub of my life right now.

When I was a kid, the kitchen table was the place where I threw my school stuff when I got home. 

Where I sat to eat a snack,

Where I hung out with my brothers,

Where I hung out with friends.

As a parent, the kitchen table was the hub for my kids,

And a place for me to connect with them and their friends.

Kitchen tables are the place where anything can happen.