Not an Ode to Howl

I am privileged to belong to the Thursday Ladies of Letters, a writers’ group in Kota Kinabalu. It’s always a fun romp with prompts, laughter, tears, discussions and plenty of live writing. The other week, we had a poetry prompt. I’m not a poet, so oh boy… Ode to Spot, here I come! Except I have many animal friends. How do I choose? My dog Howl? Mogwai, the orange cat gifted by Russians? Our neighbourhood pangolin?

Then the prompt giver delivered the prompt. It was based on the first line of Kelly Cressio-Moeller’s Portent with Moonset & Blackbirds, which itself draws on W.S. Merwin’s After School. I wrote the first line and then… well.

Sweet Soufflé

For a long time she wanted
To be at the table that
Creaked with meat and with wine
But they gave her no seat
No place but the kitchen
Plates and goblets piled high.

So she watched and she learned
She picked up the knives
The pots and colanders and pans
She made them their meals
And served at their table
The table they still said was theirs.

So she learned to perform
To sing and to play
Viola, piano, ballet
They clapped and they cheered
And praised her on high
Saying thank you, sweet girl, how divine.

Sweet… girl?
That’s it.

She went to the chemist
And bought his best poison
And slipped it into a soufflé
How fluffy and sweet!
They cried at the table
You’re clever, so useful today!

She cleaned the room
And cleared the table
Annoyed at the state of the place
All that meat and that wine
Undrunk and uneaten
Oh bother, she said, more plates.

There we have it. That’s what comes out when I sit down to write poetry. Next time, Howl.