dream_food epitome of incomprehensibility The package boasts in bold print that it's not afraid to admit its contents are half rice and half cornstarch. Some companies wouldn't mention the cornstarch, but this one does because it's just so honest. I call up the bold-print phone number, feeling bold, amused, annoyed, and curious all at once. "What's wrong with cornstarch?" I ask the woman on the other end of the line. "Is there something wrong with cornstarch?" 241105 ... raze i can't get enough light in the basement of the house i grew up in until i turn the tv on. and even that doesn't do much. a voice leaks out of a right-leaning speaker. no face to match the sound. i turn the volume down and see a second tv screen beside the one i'm silencing. on a shelf against the wall beside me, there are two more. dark sentinels that won't announce their intentions. upstairs i eat the entrails of a gutted tortilla. chicken and beans seasoned with a sauce no store would carry. there's still food on my plate when i step into the kitchen seeking a second helping. what i haven't finished eating slides off of the shine and into a bag of trash. "goddammit," i say. "i wanted that in my mouth. not the garbage." my stepfather smirks. there are two chicken breasts left on a plate on top of the oven. my mother grabs one of them. i ask if anyone knows why there are four tvs downstairs when only one is in use. my mother says she has kitchens running across the county. this is her way of keeping an eye on all the arms of her new catering business. she stands behind me and works water through the holes in the ears that live on the back of my head with a spray bottle, a child in the body of the woman who made me. 241108 what's it to you? who go blather from