The lifeless carcasses of two wooden spoons float on the surface.
Air bubbles gurgle helplessly out of the pint tumbler –
the exasperated ‘O’-shape spluttering in the currents.
Cutlery’s colourful aquaculture clings on resolutely
in the dishwater swamp; the shredded remains of ratatouille
swirl like serpents at the bottom of the bog.
The ruby trickle of a blood sauce
leak from the wounds of splintered forks.
Heavy bombs of metallic pots explode like juggernauts,
causing waves to crash over the side of basins
like occupations of foreign lands.
Plates are stripped clean of fabricated firearms.
Through the murk, a stirring of spoons is assembled
like influential bodies laid in a temple
when the water swirls shades of incarnadine.
Dishiraq; chemically clean.
Copyright © Stephen Watt 2013
Stephen Watt is a poet and performer from Glasgow. His debut collection ‘Spit’ was released in March 2012, and his Facebook page can be found here – https://www.facebook.com/StephenWattSpit