In Defense of the Bland
By: Natalia Prusinska
I’m guilty of allowing a few memories to dominate my identity
like the small majority of companies that own everything we buy.
I once cut my hand in a Home Depot, and my sister, thinking it was
paint, wiped it on the concrete floor, confusing the harmful
for the harmless like all those years I sided with my father.
I remember my father would proudly tell me he loves how
fucked up our family is. At least we’re not boring. I’m guilty of wanting
the untoasted bread of lives. Of wanting to not wake up and first
check how anxious I am the way some people first check the weather.
Natalia Prusinska (she/her) is a queer poet. Her chapbook, Hard Jolts of Hope, was published in 2021. Her work has been featured in Cream City Review, Passages North, Ghost City Review, and elsewhere. She lives with her partner in Los Angeles. X