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Saturday, April 9, 2011

spa day

Yesterday I cooked the turkey
my husband captured
under fluorescent lights
between the frozen chicken cutlets
and cornish hens.

It rested in
my refrigerator for days
until one morning
I wrestled it out of its
plastic suit and
into the sink.

I sprayed it
and washed it
and patted it dry,
and gave it a little
sea salt and pepper
aromatherapy scrub.

The sauna was up to
temperature:
four-hundred and fifty degrees.

And so I laid down the turkey on that
minimalist
metal lawn chair
I usually reserve only for use
around Thanksgiving.

I opened the door
the heat blasting against my face
to pop it inside,
and dump a cup of water
in the basin
underneath.

Close
the door.

Set
the timer.

I hope
you like it
steamy.

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