Happiness is a Hot Mess
by Lauren Zuniga
There are vegetables overflowing from every surface.
Growing from pots, saved from dumpsters, crooked
sculptures in bowls. The windows are open. Sampson
and Delilah are necking, frenzied black fur and growl.
Lemon Engine is learning the banjo. Cigarette perched
on bottom lip. Clumsy claw hammer. Occasionally,
she looks up to see if she is disturbing anyone. Even
the ceramic owls are tapping their feet. The ants two-
step along mean trails of cayenne. No one is going
anywhere.
The shower curtain keeps falling. The door is off its
hinges. This house is not used to such warm sirens.
Rising up smells like lavender oil and a pile of sweaty
girls. I fell off my bike yesterday; I’ve been admiring
the wound all morning.
Abundance is a handmade grail, filled with mulberry
mead. All these years, I had mistaken it for a clean
house and full bank account. When it came, I didn’t
even notice the casual spill. How it stained the linens.
How it made every crevice glow so loud and sweet.
LAUREN ZUNIGA woke up four years ago and realized there was more to life than matching drapes
and scented candles. She started writing poems again and break dancing in the living room with
her kids. She has represented Oklahoma in seven national poetry competitions. She finished in the
top twenty at the Women of the World poetry slam three years in a row. She was nominated for
Oklahoma State Poet Laureate and has reportedly made the Governor cry (in a good way). She
loves art used as activism, intentional communities and panang curry. Her first full length poetry
book, The Nickel Tour, is available from Penmanship Books (NYC).
There are vegetables overflowing from every surface.
Growing from pots, saved from dumpsters, crooked
sculptures in bowls. The windows are open. Sampson
and Delilah are necking, frenzied black fur and growl.
Lemon Engine is learning the banjo. Cigarette perched
on bottom lip. Clumsy claw hammer. Occasionally,
she looks up to see if she is disturbing anyone. Even
the ceramic owls are tapping their feet. The ants two-
step along mean trails of cayenne. No one is going
anywhere.
The shower curtain keeps falling. The door is off its
hinges. This house is not used to such warm sirens.
Rising up smells like lavender oil and a pile of sweaty
girls. I fell off my bike yesterday; I’ve been admiring
the wound all morning.
Abundance is a handmade grail, filled with mulberry
mead. All these years, I had mistaken it for a clean
house and full bank account. When it came, I didn’t
even notice the casual spill. How it stained the linens.
How it made every crevice glow so loud and sweet.
LAUREN ZUNIGA woke up four years ago and realized there was more to life than matching drapes
and scented candles. She started writing poems again and break dancing in the living room with
her kids. She has represented Oklahoma in seven national poetry competitions. She finished in the
top twenty at the Women of the World poetry slam three years in a row. She was nominated for
Oklahoma State Poet Laureate and has reportedly made the Governor cry (in a good way). She
loves art used as activism, intentional communities and panang curry. Her first full length poetry
book, The Nickel Tour, is available from Penmanship Books (NYC).