by Madeline McConico
My father eats collard greens at the head of our dining room table. I hear the saliva rushing in his mouth. He slurps the juice from his thumb and forefinger and asks my mother for another slice of cornbread. Another helping of them Southern Black-eyed peas he likes so much. He smooths his hand over his belly and grins. I pass him a toothpick. There is a thick sweet smell of simmering blackberries coming from the kitchen. We’ll eat blackberry cobbler—a recipe passed down from his sharecropping grandmother. We’ll sweeten that with honey. We’ll eat it with whole milk.
Madeline McConico (she/her) holds a BA in English from Iowa State University. She has worked as the co-editor on ISU’s literary magazine. Madeline is currently pursuing an MFA at Columbia College Chicago while working as a part-time instructor in the English and Creative Writing Department. Her work has appeared in Allium, A Journal of Poetry & Prose and is forthcoming in Mystic Owl. Instagram @madico101