I wanted to complain and go home

Arriving at this little white house
Through the forest, past the river
I’ve come for four days of quiet retreat
Knowing I’ll cook for myself

I wanted to cook tom kha gai (thai soup)
spicy with lemongrass and chili, but
I didn’t bring a can opener for the coconut milk
Or a cutting board for the vegetables
Or a dish scrub for the pot
now overflowing with rice water

I wanted to build my table from craigslist
with bags with screws and no instructions, but
I didn’t bring a screwdriver or wrench.
I wanted to sit down but
I didn’t bring a chair, just an
unbuilt table

I wanted to complain and go home but
I didn’t bring another person to complain to
And I’m too tired to drive home so
Instead I decided to cook the poor man’s dish —
shakshuka, not requiring any cans to be opened
I used a paper plate as a cutting board
Discovered utensils unknown
Packed alongside the rice pot

Calmed by the smell of sautéed onions
and lemongrass rice
For a moment, I am still
Not focused on what I did not bring
Remembering, I have enough
I will have something to eat
I am capable of driving into town for
a cutting board, or asking a friend for
a can opener in a few hours
No need for panic, just
Rest.