UNCLE GORDON looks at the pots hanging above the cutting block while my mother is taking stuff out from the oven and says, boy, all that copper, have they ever fallen?  My mother says, once the whole damn rig, the white iron that's thin as wire holding them up crashed.  Came right out of the ceiling.  He says, I bet it's loud, and she puts the pork on top of the stove, takes off the hot mitts and says, excuse me?  He says, I bet it's real loud.  I tell him they fell once while I was upstairs, and it sounded like thunder and falling pennies.   

"Uncle Gordon" is in Sonora Review, Issue #44 (2004)