From the Food to the Playlist

From the Food to the Playlist

I remember putting on

Get Yer Ya-Ya's Out live

the day before you fell, Mom,

I indicated which songs you did

and did not like

while preparing Creole Chicken and Rice.

I don't know why I insisted you eat the beetroot.

You didn’t want to eat

beetroot and carrot cooked without seasoning

―as if with that mixture, I thought,

while I bringing the food to your mouth

and listening to The Most Beautiful Thing by Eros Ramazzotti,

I could heal you.

I wake up in the middle of the night

and head to my brother's bedroom,

turn on the light,

ask him to play Julia from the Beatles

loud enough for Mom to hear.

Without saying anything he jumps out of the sheets,

takes the guitar from the case and plays Julia.

Then he pushes it back in the case, 
and turns off the light switch.

I stay for a few minutes in the dark.

Walk down to the first floor

and microwave my Jumbalaya.