The lazy Susan, in antiquity, would have been a fire.
Drinking all night, the parents never get drunk.
This is an ancient brew, with nuts, seeds, fruit
to fuel the hours, to light a center.
The tea dispenser’s orange light reminds us:
they’re in the dining room, laughing in Chinese
while we play Scrabble or Monopoly out here.
They’re telling stories we don’t bother to record
because the nights are long. We’ve heard them before.
We don’t comprehend the punch lines. They’re tired.
They live this way because of us.
We live this way because of them.
We don’t comprehend the punch lines. They’re tired
because the nights are long. We’ve heard them before,
telling stories we don’t bother to record.
While we play Scrabble or Monopoly out here,
they’re in the dining room, laughing in Chinese.
The tea dispenser’s orange light reminds us
to fuel the hours,…
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The New Yorker (Digital) - 1 Issue, November 7, 2016