A little of this, a dab that,
we dish out our frustrations through asthmatic breaths.
Mine are served up lightly seared
with mint garnish of leafy discontent
in a raspberry coulisse of delicate rage.
Yours boil and pop in a single constant earthen pot,
simmering silently most of the time,
now and then bubbling up to the surface:
an uneasy cube of beef in a murky stew
of vague vegetable protests.

Let’s drain the pot and scrub the dishes now
in the hope of something robust yet slightly heady.
You bring the once celebrated bottle of red wine,
now five days forgotten,
and I the cloves, cinnamon, and some powdered sugar.
Let’s simmer the wine in a new pot,
mix in the mulling spices,
let the contradictory flavors meld,
and see what sweetens and
what, at the pot’s depths,
remains vinegar.
—————

About The Author:

Jennifer Bradpiece is a graduate of Antioch University’s BA program. While at Antioch, her focus of creative writing led her to complete an internship at the literary arts center Beyond Baroque in Venice, California. She lives in Los Angeles, California, where she writes poetry, essays, short fiction, and reviews. Her poetry has been published in the anthology, The Pagan’s Muse, as well as in journals and zines such as Media Cake eMagazine, Poetic Diversity, The Chickasaw Plum, and The Mad Poet’s Review.