The Krispy Kreme That Used to Be on Austin Hwy.
by Kate Soupiset
Waiting in line during our post-church donut run, Mom asks about
baby names, wants our input. I am pudgy and nearly five — I live
for Dora the Explorer and sugar. What will soon be kid #4 presses
against the edges of Mom as I press my nose against the glass,
watching golden rings pass under a milky curtain of glaze and come
out glistening on the other side.
“We should name her Glazed,” I offer. Whether I was serious, I
don’t remember, but it must’ve come from some craving for
for sweetness, waiting for a little warm thing to hold in my hands.
PHOTO: Krispy Kreme donuts by Surya Nair.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: My younger sister was beautifully named Emma and came to mind when I first wrote this poem for a prompt about a place that doesn’t exist anymore. Hence a piece about a long-forgotten Krispy Kreme location but that originated a family inside joke. This poem is the origin of our family becoming complete with Emma as the fourth and final child.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Kate Soupiset is a fourth-year student at DePaul University. They are the author of the poetry collection False Anatomy and the chapbook Old Love / New Love. Their poems have been published in various university literary magazines, including the University of the Incarnate Word’s Quirk, University of Washington St. Louis’ Spires, and DePaul’s very own The Orange Couch. Kate grew up in San Antonio, Texas, and plans to become a Chicago public school teacher.
Silver Birch Press 