"TWO STAIRWAYS" by Bill Cushing - Contest Entry

TWO STAIRWAYS

by  Bill Cushing

The first greets those who promenade

through the foyer to a sunken

living room; its steps—wide with

carpeted tread—ease beneath gilded panels

lined with portraits of staid patriarchs

long dead. Bright red lips brush fair cheeks,

besitos de cultura alto,

as these elegant guests parade

through the living room past a massive

dining table and walls affixed

with innocuous ceramic buttons,

doorbell fixtures to summon the help

from the kitchen hiding a second staircase:

steep, jagged, and above all concrete.

Servants—rough hands wrapped in skin darker

than the mahogany furniture

they rub to a high shine—trudge between floors

carrying the weight of meals, loads of laundry,

flutes of lemon water, and whispered curses,

triggered by constant buzzing commands.

Meanwhile, quiet worms of hate burrow, deep

yet imperceptible, into their hearts.