Monday, February 19, 2007

Okay, just one more today and I'm through.

Architect of Appetite


the witch doesn’t dine very often
she’s a connoisseur

she enjoys how cinnamon sprinkled on the roof
carries in the air when the children
drift in to her yard they’re dragged
by their noses

her mother warned her
she would starve
with her delicate tongue

the rest of the family made do with rats and grubs
the occasional farmer’s wife

the witch smiles as she remembers
pats her belly bakes a new
gingerbread brick & stuffs it in
the corner where her bedroom sags

she’s never been unhappy
with the
sweetness
the way the flesh sloughs
off the bone boiled in garlic
water and lemon

though some summer days
she swears
the heat in her little sugared house
will bake her


4 comments:

Sam of the ten thousand things said...

This is a great piece. Yes.

Christine said...

Sam -- Thank you! You know I always love getting your opinion.

Brooke said...

Oooh, I like this one.

Christine said...

Thanks, Brooke. It's part of my series -- which seems to developed a life of its own.