Mash
I was at a village fete
with you in the sunshine,
hand in hand
bouncy castle, tombola, homemade jam
I judged the mashed potato contest
giving marks for presentation, flavour, consistency.
The winner, a dimpled woman of Amish appearance.
What’s your secret? I asked before I woke.
It’s about love, she said, all about love.
What To Do With My Ashes
When I die, cremate me.
Drop me in a bucket
of soapy water and mix well
with a wooden spoon
Incant, if you feel the urge, sing songs,
read poems, tell stories, don’t cry.
Then take some metal coat-hangers
and twist a circle, one each.
Go to a wide open space, you choose –
somewhere nice you can revisit –
dunk your loops in the suds
and take turns to blow big, beautiful bubbles.
Release me over the river, into the trees,
up to the wide blue sky and say goodbye,
as with each glistening globe
I float away.
Kate Dempsey‘s dinky book of poetry was published by moth editions in 2011. She blogs at emergingwriter.blogspot.com about writing related things and tweets at @PoetryDivas.
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