Mary Tisera

STUFFED

It's turkey day at the Tisera's Again.
Clashing aromas of warm apple pie,
Giblets, and sweet potatoes
Co-mingle with my sister's burnt hair
It's early yet—people are still
Arriving at the doorstep
With the latest potables
Since my chair is confined to
The primary floor, I play
De-facto hostess
(a role with which I tire easily)
Then finally—Wham!—our
Dinner bell rings
Folks come scurrying in
From all directions
Next comes a barbaric rendition
Of musical chairs as the strong bury
The weak (or at least relegate them
To the children's table)
Once everyone is placed,
The queen bee signals us to eat
A gastronomic ballet ensues
As food is consumed, fought over, and rejected
And in the aftermath, I lay back Stuffed.

Mary Tisera wrote her first story, "Demons," when she was nine, after her father left and grandmother died of cancer in the same year. She served a brief stint in the army before marriage. After two sons, she left his abusive ass and headed back north to get her college degree, but in 1999 suffered a near-fatal stroke. She now resides at Inglis House and takes great pride in her work.