By Claudia

Your attempts have been made in the microwave. Undone at the center burnt crisp at the edges to uneatable rocks. But if you do this correctly you will remember your teachers face. Your teacher will tell you, “you never bake a cake

In the microwave.” But my mother dried clothes in the RADARANGE and almost blew up the house with the smoke. Now we look back and laugh. No more brownies in the supermarket to be made in 5 minutes. Shaved dark chocolate dusted with chile molido from the state of Oaxaca, Mexico, wholly acceptable; processed cocoa and corn syrup?  wholly not.

Just be authentic. I don’t like meeting cold people at their centers who look like rocks. I don’t really care for lava cake but you can get that at any TGI Friday’s. Details details not flagrant buttons that scream your ideologies. I haven’t seen any kids in the neighborhood recently who looked like they used Kool-Aid to dye their hair to limpid blue. I miss that. Here I got these starbursts you want one? They’re fresh so they’re not hard enough to bounce off the sidewalk. I may never meet you again I’m not sorry about it at all. Remember me because I won’t give you cancer and I don’t need a wet paper towel over my mouth to walk through this city.

I like how the last thing before we eat can be peeled off in a strip and seen clear through into parts of the sky

Claudia is from Back Mountain, Pa.

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