Eating Out
by Lara Frankena
The children take turns dying of food poisoning as we wait for our soup. Mine crumples over the table onto folded arms, dark lashes fluttering like a Victorian lady aswoon. Her friend is aghast. You didn’t even vomit! Seizing herself by the neck, she gasps and gags until she keels over, then flails about on the cushions scattered across the banquette.
For the benefit of other diners, we suggest they try quieter ways to die. After lunch they are insatiable vampire fairies again, chanting blood, blood, blood and even though neither of them could finish their smoothies their wet mouths find our bare arms.
Little Ali in his buggy, who copies everything they do, snatches up his bunny and sucks its floppy limb.
Lara Frankena is a Midwesterner by birth and a Londoner by chance. Her poems have appeared in publications such as Poetry News, Oxford Poetry and Magma.