Rongfei Mu

Creation Myth

a man makes a toaster
from scratch on tv, cramming
dozens of bolts and pieces
inside four iron walls. pop!
and out comes a single slice,
sizzled and half-burnt.
my father visits. we loiter
in a local cafe and speak
in one-syllables, sugar packets
scattered against the tablecloth
like tiny white flags. pigeons
bicker on the pavement outside,
trading breadcrumbs until
there is nothing left to hold.
i am trying to rebuild the two of us,
piece by piece, starting
from the very beginning.
when he flipped over the living room
table. i could feel the neurons being
severed midair—sizzling electricity—
as i stared into his wounded,
animalistic eyes, wondering
if it was all love had to offer.
now, he fills the silence
with nonsensical texts:
“sweetheart, i am heading
to the meeting room now”
and articles i will never need,
like ten tips to survive a hostage
situation and what to do if stuck
in a falling escalator. danger
remains the only language we share.
on the screen, a man builds
a toaster from scratch
and it takes him nine months.
i am five again, smudged against
my father in the wet grass,
waiting for him to turn on
his assembly line of stars.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Rongfei Mu is a full-time student and part-time poet based in Beijing, China. Her work has appeared in Palette Poetry, Jet Fuel Review and elsewhere. When she is not writing depressing poetry, she is either dreaming up her next novel or obsessively rereading her favorite biographies of Robert F. Kennedy Sr.