Morgan Tinin


7 Ways of Looking at an Apron

I was born
with Apron strings
around my mouth
I was born
with pie crust
down my throat
I was born
saying the right things
or nothing at all.

Growing up
I put things in my pockets
things I didn’t need
like my father’s shame
and a stirring spoon
like blue ballpoint pens
and my mother’s judgment.

I grew up
learning to hide
what my parents wanted me to
like my body
what men didn’t want of me
like my intellect.

Cooking lessons
went quick
at my house
forget the flour
or toss the salt
but Aprons
always Aprons.

My mother
taught me
to roll dough
and keep secrets
to mash potatoes
and to blame.
She taught me to slice thin
and cut deep.

The health department
requires Aprons
different sizes
for each person
the one I picked
fit from
neck to calf.

Aprons cover messes
Aprons cover mistakes
Aprons in case of
flying paprika
or cocoa powder
Aprons in case of
spilled salsa
can be covered
so can mental health
hot oil
can be covered
so can your sexual preferences.

I wear my Apron
as a waitress
as a daughter
as a young woman
in my kitchen
in my nightmares
in my memories
and out of habit.

Just the other day
my mother
took her apron off
maybe someday
I’ll learn never
to put mine on.

Morgan Tinin is a student at Murray State University who has a deck of cards in their car just in case they ever need them. They spend their time walking at their local arboretum, working at a pizza buffet with their twin sister, and eating as much sushi as possible.

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