They eye me the way I once
did you, reminders of red wines paired
with seared cuts,
sugared plums, spiced ***
and saccharine frosting
whipped to delicate peaks—
They are stringy and shiny
with bulging green bellies and
for a moment I imagine them
bursting free from their pods and
spilling into the aisle, shining like
wet eggs under the fluorescent lights—
White-knuckling the cart and chin just high enough to gaze at the produce
from the corner of my eye, I push
past, I push on, I push away from
“You know I can see you watching me,”you’d said that night when I tried the same move on you, voice like a snake
and mouth red with merlot
you moved to me and you whispered
your song; our eyelids flitting like moon dusted moth wings, and guilty, wet heartbeats blooming across our faces—
In another aisle now I release
my breath. Ribs unfurl like sails and
nothing ever happened.
I never called you back.
Symphonic excursions and gourmet
paranoia ceased, and as time moved on,
so did I.
But I will never cook with fava beans again.
This was an assignment for my poetry class, which was to write a persona poem. This is about Martha Stewart breaking up with Sir Anthony Hopkins because his role as Hannibal Lecter freaked her out too much, she couldn’t separate him from his role. I personally find this hilarious because she is a chef and his whole thing is cooking people. So I wrote this. Enjoy!