Calcification

'Have you ever heard a friend’s work voice for the first time?' he asks.
The question throws me back to cusp-of-30; 
Friends who talk system integrations and M&A deals while
lamenting how quick the weekend goes
That manager at Barcelona Wine Bar whose 
may-I-take-your-reservation voice rang 
an octave higher; 
saccharine sweet.
Back to social circle rifts à la Hathaway v. Posse
in Devil Wears Prada

I never found the corporate ladder. 

In my early 20s, I was voice acting on morning radio:
A housewife who drove her kids home from soccer practice 
post-two glasses of wine
A fiancée upset by the size of her engagement ring 

I almost gave myself away because I know nothing about carrots 

Now I dice rainbow bunches and stalks of celery that I 
throw into a cocotte alongside dried mushrooms, 
tomato paste and scraps of onion 
thyme, rosemary, bay leaves

This: my mark of adulthood, that I know what a dutch oven
is, find homemade stock superior
to store bought and write in a way that affects
carelessness in a way I couldn’t 
when I was actually 
carefree

In Memory Of Gabe Hudson, who made me feel so seen in my joy at discovering the work of Grace Paley and left us far too soon. I always think of his words: ’Why do we call short stories ‘short’ when they are prose miracles that haunt you to yr grave?’

A special thank you to

Mark Koslow

for inspiring this poem with “The Masks of Adulthood.”