Lilies and Onions: A Poem

They’re of the same ilk

snobbish cousins

the golden-haired child and the black sheep

who parted ways after adolescence,

who deliberately forget to send Christmas cards.

One decided in favour of pungency.

A source of dutiful tears

Breaded and deep fried with ketchup

Relegated to the cold cellar

To Saturday afternoon barbeques

To thick, alkaline wedges among lettuce leaves

To hang on a er’s breath

and in the kitchen curtains.

The other made only carefully-calculated public appearances

On altars

Freckled, but majestic

Sensual orange and scarlet

Bowing before blushing brides

Spreading rosy fingers among trellises.

One should be so lucky

as to be appreciated layer by layer

to have world’s beneath one’s skin

exposed,

to be devoured to one’s core.

Fools, we dream of expounding our importance.

Petal by frivolous petal,

we trade stoutness and semi-permanence

for two weeks of frantic glow.