Celeriac Heart
sits knobbly in the fridge
with my lungs and ribs.
I don’t know what to do with it.
Peel it, dice it, boil it, mash it,
serenade it with razor strings of mandolin?
It goes off.
It’s binned.
Next time
I’ll search for recipes online.
(from Neptune Blue (Salt 2011). See an animated version of this poem here)
Simon Barraclough is the author of Forward finalist Los Alamos Mon Amour (Salt 2008); Bonjour Tetris (Penned in the Margins 2010) and Neptune Blue.
andotherpoems.com 