There’s a catch on the pressure
cooker lid, crucial as the one on autoclave,

coffin. A golden latch on a Faberge egg,
and hidden ones in each of my aunt’s cunning

puzzle boxes—secret pins
locked out every cousin but one.


Michigan poet Lynn Pattison’s work has appeared in The Notre Dame Review, Rhino, Harpur Palate, Smartish Pace, Rattle, Tinderbox, Slipstream, and Poetry East, among others, and has been anthologized in several venues. She is the author of three collections: tesla’s daughter (March St. Press); Walking Back the Cat (Bright Hill Press); and Light That Sounds Like Breaking (Mayapple Press).