Siobhan Potter





 ...She has eaten porridge from the pot for so long
She has forgotten that she does it
Her neighbour, out while she eats, reminds her
Pot scraping rebounding in the walled garden
Mortifying
She reaffirms her commitment 
In the liminality of the kitchen
The last ignominious mouthful
Soothed by the moka pot
Her second favourite
Despite what they tell you
There are favourites
The porridge pot, his
Now—spoils of divorce
Her grandmother
Fed her dog in a saucepan
He had the shed to himself
Had himself to himself

He loved that pot...