He’s been clouding over for a couple
of days now. If only the storm were breaking.
I am 45 and fed up.
While I am cubing the onions he opens
another beer. I wipe my nose and cheeks
with the back of my hand. More weeping.
Attacking the tomatoes I’m beginning
to feel in control. I stick my sharpest
knife into the belly of the mackerel
and slice through muscle and skin.
My face is distorted in the bowl
of crimson water. My hand slides
into that silver body, empties
it of all life. When I feel his breath
in my neck I turn.
Knife in my bloody hands
I am ready to excise the boil.
This is a reprint of work originally published in Muddy River Poetry Review.
A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and Tangents, a full-length poetry collection published in the UK in 2010/2011, her work has been widely published in US poetry journals (online and print). She was three times winner of the now-defunct Goodreads monthly competition. Recent poetry collections: From the Ruhr to Somewhere Near Dresden 1939-1949: A Child’s Journey and Peru Blues or Lady Gaga Won’t Be Back. Her latest full-length poetry MS, The Rain Girl, has been accepted for publication in June 2020 by The Blue Nib.