For We Write Poems’ Prompt #95, which encouraged us to write about something in the natural world from a not-so-common point of view.
I’ve murdered the cook
in this mansion mystery —
Look, my hands are slick
like a surgeon’s when he searches
for this or that organ,
I’ve even got the knife and heart
to prove it. It’s bigger
and rounder than most
and has gone quite still,
except for its tendency
to stain the kitchen tiles
and cutting board a ghastly
red (would a killer use
such a word, ghastly?)
To remove and conceal
all evidence I’ve chopped
the fist-sized thing up
into bits with the poor guy’s
own meat cutter and
put it into the mix
as tasty, chewy beet.
14 thoughts on “Salad Night”
This is like a murder mystery trip, indeed.
This must be written from experience! I wonder if anyone has ever made an admission of guilt in a blog!
Murderer of beets!! I think they’d use the word ghastly, (an educated murderer would any way!) Fun one. 🙂
Thanks for your thoughts Hannah!
Your welcome! 🙂
I like ithe poem very much, but I like not the mess preparing beets makes in the kitchen – I’m with you there.
Yes, it’s always a slightly horrifying mess!
indeed a real nice trip….thanks for sharing
I love this poem, even though it’s a bit gory sounding. Doesn’t put me off beets, though… 😀
Thanks Ruth! Yes, beets are too delicious to be put off on them 😀
Well, now I’ve got more competition in the dark and ghastly department. I love the gory details and how you lead us to the surprise ending.
I appreciate the comment, Nicole!