Three Poems
First published in Veronica Literary Magazine, Issue Two, 2017
What’s For Dinner
When shopping for nothing we notice
half three-quarter no-quarter prices
We find our nothing marked down to full retail price,
pack it into vacant trolley, pay quickly, lug it home.
Remove nothing from plastic bag in kitchen. Cut free
from shrink-wrap sarcophagus, extracted with bare fingers.
Place nothing onto counter top, notice
how it bleeds, dripping over cratered marble.
Deal with mess later, after dinner’s done.
Fling raw scraps of nothing to loyal dog at our heels.
Place nothing into oven. Screw dial to 250 degrees.
Let it cook for 45 minutes to an hour. Wait. Wait.
Peel nothing out of biting oven. Wrench carving knife
from splintered rack. Cut nothing up, dividing it
into smaller and smaller pieces. Economise. Squirrel
what’s left away into intestinal freezer for later date.
Say grace for this bountiful nothing. Sink front teeth.
Eat with our hands. Feel our bellies emptying already
hungry for whole horses, for more of the same thing.
We start off with nothing and end up with less.
Night Cravings
Tossing turning through
crinkle-cut-eyed hours
flipping myself
upon myself
as a red raw
burger patty
burns on grill
you sung me lullabies
of heart disease
counterintuitive diets
and counted
sesame seed corpses
of gluten-free
sheep.
I haven’t slept
a
wink since
my appetite
is
alarming me.
Upbringing
I grew up on the warm broad shoulders of giants
spent years practising the subtle art of self-reliance
Studying great men of great might and insight
with huge ugly words skydropping
from their wide whiskery mouths
words that were so heavy
they would tremor the earth
rattling even gravity.
I grew up on the warm bald heads of giants
stalk and crocodile formed their alliance.
My giants noticed me hopscotching from
cranium to cranium, envying my agility
stomping their feet, slowing their words
making them sharper, digging deeper into earth
wishing for new bodies, lithe and pocket-sized.
I grew up on the warm boulder backs of giants
quiet and contented and without defiance.
My giants envied me, partly resented me.
I tried not to dwell too much on that
distracted by their gargantuan words
plummeting to earth, punching craters
wondering what it would be like
to be great and not want to be.
