Email Poem

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Personal Note:

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Poem

my dear friends,

i am writing to address
a memory of sorts:
a lovely barbecue,
evening, on the beach.

you all brought
ingredients
to pile on my barbecue.

you all brought your onions
your palette knives
your cutting board
and one of you were
cutting onions.
                at the beach.

the juices, they pricked
pricked my sockets for droplets.
oh, it was lovely,
the sizzling crackle of veg.
and i took my chair,
i examined the burns.

the sizzles, the pops, how the knife had painted
the onions
onions!
red onions in the sky .

it scorched my eyes
oh! the taste!
and you were all so thrilled
to share your creation

the meal was fantastic
filling for the night, but for days after
i couldn't rid myself of
onions
without cutting them away from my eyes
so i vaguely remember
in a dream like state,
one of you took your palette knife
and scooped them out for me.
i cried and shook for hours in relief!

and, oh! what a time.
and, oh.
onions.

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