How the heart burns

By | 13 May 2024

We swallowed anger with the milk puddings.
With peas and chops and mint sauce. With silverbeet
cooked on the back of the stove
until the water evaporates and the edges burn.

Put some butter on it, you won’t even taste it!

Resentment in the mayonnaise made from condensed
milk and malt vinegar. And I dream of the Skipping Girl,
neon rope spinning, mustn’t stop.
Not for a single moment, always smiling.

Even at night when everyone sleeps.

One teaspoon of sugar.
Plenty in a large
metal dish of rice and milk
for a family of eight.

A recipe handed down from my Grandma.

Then Dad walks in with a brown box damp
with ice creams. Handing them out
like Father Christmas.
Washing his down later with Mylanta.

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