The Boy Child by Abigail George | Poems Rethabile Likes
The boy child
by Abigail George
We built a sandpit for the kid
Fed him ice cream and bananas
A diet of crisps. Pink milkshakes.
He played in the dirt unaware
Of climate change. Global warming
At the weekend when he came
To visit his paternal family.
Inside my head I imagine
Ted Hughes first meeting with
Sylvia Plath and then much later
With his lover Assia Wevill.
I imagine the fuss. The media.
The media's ghost handling it all.
There is a tightness in my chest
As I regard all of these things.
Church on Sunday. Wreckage or roast.
Dysfunctional family retreating into
The gardens. The kitchen. Church.
The wreckage of the eternity
Of wings and drumsticks of chicken.
Juice boxes on the kitchen table.
Making peanut butter sandwiches.
For the school week ahead.
Fed him ice cream and bananas
A diet of crisps. Pink milkshakes.
He played in the dirt unaware
Of climate change. Global warming
At the weekend when he came
To visit his paternal family.
Inside my head I imagine
Ted Hughes first meeting with
Sylvia Plath and then much later
With his lover Assia Wevill.
I imagine the fuss. The media.
The media's ghost handling it all.
There is a tightness in my chest
As I regard all of these things.
Church on Sunday. Wreckage or roast.
Dysfunctional family retreating into
The gardens. The kitchen. Church.
The wreckage of the eternity
Of wings and drumsticks of chicken.
Juice boxes on the kitchen table.
Making peanut butter sandwiches.
For the school week ahead.
Comments
That's the fuel