Discovery
Scientific, a 1950’s sci-fi gadget crackling
like a dream of the future. I imagine
beakers and lightning orbs, mechanical
dismantling, esoteric miscellany swathed
in thick cobwebs as nylon over skin, they
jounce on metal tables. To jentaculate
must mean to demystify the world,
Einsteinian scholars peering through scratched
safety goggles at some new creation,
a monster to reveal the human condition
with bolts in its neck just like the stereotype.
But it really means breakfast, the casual,
early mastication of browned toast topped
with grape jelly, hot coffee sipped from
a plain-colored ceramic mug, hasty bites
of a cold granola bar, the crinkled wrapper
folded and torn like a banana peel. Early
mornings prickle with excitement; to
jentaculate at first light’s commencement,
a checkmark on the to-do list and
this is my life now: a morning meal is a
celebration like fireworks heard
from miles away.
Bio – Adam Chabot is the English Department Chair at Kents Hill School, a private, independent high school located in central Maine. His other poetry has been recently featured in Magpie Lit, rough diamond poetry, The Red Lemon Review, and FEED, among others. He can be found on Twitter @adam_chabot.
