Maiko Kikuchi, I Scream You Scream We All Scream for Icecream, 2015 (Artist Website)
Paper and acrylic on colored paper
Grab your coats, she said, there were other
treasures out there left for dead—TV trays,
an ottoman, mismatched wicker chairs
from patio sets. No, they weren’t
infested. She dragged that nightstand
five long blocks, her floral skirt too bright
for mid-March, too come-out-and-shout!
All winter shut in a dark cellar waiting to sprout.
Her heels clopped. We lugged a dresser
up the steps. This was years ago. It was not grief,
no—longing perhaps, for what she once
had or thought she might want in the sunlight
at breakfast, when she sharpened her knife
against grapefruit sprinkled with sugar.