A Kitchen Nightmare
 



I eat courgettes, in slices, every day
for lunch. They have health benefits for me.
This week, as we approach the end of May,
my supermarket’s standard pack of three

contains just one, quite large. I wonder when
courgettes turn into marrows. Is it time?
Well, lunchtime now. I set aside my pen
and hasten to the fridge, reach for the... slime

that fills and chills my shocked and shaking hand
and settles in my fingernails. “Ew!”
I shriek, and grab the nearest sturdy bag
for life, to try to catch the pools of ooze

from this – what is it? – fish-stench rotting thing,
whose ghost will surely haunt the food-waste bin.

Felicity Teague

 If you have any thoughts about this poem, Felicity Teague  would be pleased to hear them