No one uses the dining room for dining, the dining room is a joke:
an exhibit designed for the lives our parents expected of us.
The dining room is closer to a display for the dead than it is for the living.
What if we renamed it the feeding room instead?
And filled it with hay and charred meat?
And ate with our hands in the straw and shat and slept there.
That is my kind of room, more for the living than the dead.
A rubric for how to live our lives by how we consume it.