|Venus Verticordia - Dante Gabriel Rossetti- 1866|
I attack food as if someone
were going to take it away from me.
Don't come too close at supper time.
I keep my arms curled around my plate,
and my knife ready.
Have a tasty treat, the old woman said;
she was no Aphrodite, but she offered me an apple.
My teeth broke the red skin with that first bite,
the apple juices a jolt of rapture
roiling on my tongue,
then that little death, a drugged sleep.
No Snow White, no happy munchkins
lining up, far shorter than me,
for a supper that doesn't quite spread
to feed so many.
Where is that old woman
with her red, red apples?
I could use a little deception
or a nap.
I don't really know where this poem came from today. I sometimes wish my writing didn't have a dark twist, that I could easily write happily-ever-after stories, but today's prompt, "tasty" should play into some good memories, for I love to eat. I've eaten chicken toes in Canada, fried grasshoppers in Turkey, and an unforgettable Brazilian stew of beans called feijoada. But why not turn to myth, Snow White and Aphrodite, or even that famous apple that some say was a tasty treat for Adam and Eve.
Meanwhile, are you writing a poem a day for October's OctPoWriMo, a poetry challenge sponsored by Poets on the Page? Click HERE to read what some 70 poets have written today.