austin-chan-275640
28 sec 
Issue Three & Poetry

Wasted

By Lyn Chatham

 

At four am Seb cooks dinner

in his minimalist mock kitchen.

First he whips dumplings,

folding clouds of floury floss,

smothering the screen

like God with a gentle blender.

Then he cuts up pumpkin, impossibly orange

slabs of rock, on the white bench,

caresses coriander and mandarin

onto the salmon; which seems happy enough

being trussed by its own mortician.

Then Seb assembles a strawberry

soufflé, lovingly explaining

until the lava cream slips,

lurches, and explodes over

the sides of the pudding.

The camera is under every slop

easing its way down the slope

until it must surely shudder out,

to be wasted on the boards below

 

Image by: Austin Chan