The Spice Incident

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Our cupboards hold a fine collection of jars.

So when I saw it on TV, ‘cumin is good for you!’

I’d eaten turmeric for years in lieu of chocolate bars.

Happy with my kitchen find, anticipating vigour,

I set to work on writing lists of all the things I’ll do.

There is always plenty of jobs in our house,

in your house too, I’m sure.

 I’ve no idea what motivated my spouse,

 he tidied the spice jars… 

He threw away my cumin powder-

the spice I’d put to use. 

He said, when questioned that

‘His stuff always gets thrown away’

Well, that simply isn’t true. Although-

he brings home other people’s crap

Second hand e-cigs (eww).

A stolen wine decanter – no thank you.

Not to mention the garden furniture

that started to grow mushrooms.

All these items are still there –

apart from the fungus infected wicker chairs.

Communication is what’s needed here,

when I speak he doesn’t seem to hear.

I wonder if he’ll read this poem,

it’s just my way of getting things across.

It was just a bit of cumin.

 

(Fiction) Samantha Henthorn © 2018.

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