Marika thinks there is a devil
So she puts in more garlic
Even more garlic::::
She thinks there is a demon
So chops-up hard-boiled egg
And tosses it in
Fears there is another
So a little more paprika
Than usual a pinch of
The deep red crushed pepper
From Aunt Augusta
Her mother says anchovies
Where there would be
Sardines::::and don’t adjust
The salt
Marina never has
Good advice “Just ask him”
‘Just ask him!’
Tries unripe tomatoes
Those salty Greek olives
And lemon grass
No more basil
Says mother::::
Instead, crushed
Sunflower seeds
With chopped parsley
Used for cover
And Drusilla says
More
garlic (she
Always says more
Garlic) and Anna
Maria a pinch of
Yeast in everything::::
But instead
She chooses baking
Powder and ginger
Mother has sent
A book with exotic
Recipes::::”Stinging nettle,
If boiled for twenty minutes,
Loses its poisonous
Effect”::::and wrote
A little note
Tucked inside
‘You can of course
reverse the
workings of the
ingredients’::::she
Never did like
Him::::but this
Is the closest
She’s been to
Her mother since
That final blow-up
Over grandchildren
Last summer
Where she finally
Had to exclaim
‘It could be me,
you know! You
worked
in that cannery
up to your eighth
month with me!::::
and everyone knows
how tin
can effect
the unborn…’
With
the weekend
Coming she experiences
Desperation::::Nina
In her secretive
Way says she
Knows just the trick
And shows up
Almost instantly
At the kitchen door
With a dark bottle
Filled with pills
“Laxatives::::won’t
hurt him, just
a few stomach cramps::::
He’ll stay home.”
Marika winces
Takes the bottle
Slowly and
Doesn’t think about
It::::about anything
But then, later
Suddenly grabs
The bottle
Down from the shelf
From behind the oregano
Mashes three or four
Of the large pills
With fury
In her mortar
And with
Only slight misgivings
Throws it in
The pot
Of simmering beans::::
Guilt evaporating
Fast like steam
Rising up
Doesn’t wish
To hurt him
Stands crooked like
That wicked
Smile of Nina’s
Up all night
He gets up out
Of bed all night
Gurgling hissing sound
And she listens
But he insists
Next morning
Must go to work
Pale tired drained
Must::::his eggs
Very runny
And no toast
“I forgot”
and it’s too late
(she knew)
He’s out the door
["Marika's
Cooking" currently runs over 3000 lines and is being
worked-on by William, thus, if you've noticed, there's a
lack of work going up on the site right now... just wanted
to give a taste so everyone will know I'm still
kicking. If you're really into it, just gotta read
more, send me an email and ask, wfairbrotherhotmail.com]
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