INKSPILL Guest Writer Heather Wastie – Poetry – Spaghetti hoops

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Spaghetti hoops

 

Seven tins of spaghetti hoops

left behind to taunt me;

a stubborn reminder

of happiness shared.

 

 

Innocent on soggy toast,

scooped on a fork,

wriggling in the corner

of a child’s crumb-encrusted mouth.

 

 

I struggle with her

half-remembered recipe for marriage,

without the crucial ingredient.

And yet,

 

 

sharing in desertion,

they are a comfort –

permanent,

steady as rocks.

 

 

Shopping for one,

the urge is irresistible –

better get another can,

for the weekend.

 

 

On Saturday

the kitchen cupboard smiles

with the laughter of children,

borrowed like cruets

 

 

from another man’s table.

Open the lid.

Another tin of spaghetti hoops

finds a way into their hearts.

 

 

© Heather Wastie

June 1994 / October 2010

 

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6 responses »

  1. Hard hitting – especially this stanza —-

    struggle with her

    half-remembered recipe for marriage,

    without the crucial ingredient.

    Powerful poetry Heather, again thanks for allowing us to publish the end product.

    Spaghetti hoops have always been a favourite of mine, they were a rare treat as a child, I think my obsession started at university. Or perhaps at college when I discovered friends mum’s buying the themed shape ones for their now teenage children! I will have to forget how this poem made me feel before I open another can though. The cupboard is bare of hoops so this should be easy.

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