Nuan Wa, and other unsuitable names

Titles advertise.  They are sandwich boards of the writing world, vulgarly proclaiming artistic contents found inside the author's stores.  Even lovely titles steal some vestige of mystery from unopened covers.
From now on, I shall refer to all my writing as "Untitled [Poem]," "Untitled [Blog]," "Untitled [Story]."  Or I could just adopt my children's teacher's naming technique and refer to things by their nearest object.  In such case, this blog would be entitled, "Broken First Aid Kit Case."

White Rice

My friend Betsy won't make rice anymore. Tiny
toddler hands fingerpaint

sticky white grains
grind pale beads
into blue carpet, she says.
On hands and knees
picking mashed, tacky
blobs of boogers
out of baby hair and nude upholstery

rice seems a practical sort of phobia.

yet, as it dries under her table,
starchy water again escapes
pops and spits
and resists..