Scraping black toast into the sink,
Teen hears Mum say,
‘Just do another slice. Another slice.’
But no, scrape the acrid burnt bits into
The sink. Dad will clean the toast dust, bitter
Choking toast dust sticks to
Sink sides clinging onto
The cloth Mum hates to clear away. She says,
‘Just do another slice. Another slice.’
Polly Robinson © 2012
28/12/2012 at 10:34
listen to mom
28/12/2012 at 11:41
heh-heh … can’t you just smell that stuff?
28/12/2012 at 11:46
I kind of like burnt toast if truth be known and the acrid smell–heaven
28/12/2012 at 11:47
Gosh, my mum would have been in full agreement! Me? Can’t stand it
28/12/2012 at 11:50
28/12/2012 at 12:48
I hate burnt toast too! Yuck! It’s kinda cool to write about it though
28/12/2012 at 12:49
Cool
I like it 
28/12/2012 at 13:27
OH motherhood is SOOOOOOOO redundant some times. My thing with my daughter was holding her bottle. I don’t know what the one thing is that’s soul stripping for my son yet!!! He’s still to little to judge. But when you hear that little voice or see those little fingers being scrubbed clean in a warm towel make it ALL worth while! Beautiful poem!!!
28/12/2012 at 14:35
Thanks Jasmine. Our babes are special
28/12/2012 at 14:57
They are but this job sucks LOL!!!!
28/12/2012 at 16:32
At times … You have to have the times that ‘suck’ so you appreciate the really good ones
x
28/12/2012 at 22:08
EXACTLY!!
28/12/2012 at 13:27
The mess you can make doing that with toast! It’s criminal
28/12/2012 at 14:36
Should never be allowed!
28/12/2012 at 19:41
I love burnt toast in a poem – it evokes so many domestic images. Nice repetition too – feels like drudgery….
28/12/2012 at 20:13
Lovely when fellow poets ‘get’ what’s intended
28/12/2012 at 20:00
I love this one–my mom never threw away a bit of burnt bread. Scrape, scrape, scrape…
28/12/2012 at 20:11
Mine said the burnt bits were good for you! Nooooooooo
28/12/2012 at 20:15
LOL!
29/12/2012 at 12:26
You’ve suggested the tension bouncing between the three so well, Polly. Very effective! My only regret? I wanted a bit more!
29/12/2012 at 12:26
heh-heh … toast’s like that, Lindsay
x
29/12/2012 at 21:13
i can almost feel the stickiness of these crumbs. secret: i love the smell of burnt toast. another non-so-secret: I would never bite into it. At the blackened stage, it makes for a way better poem than anything else.
30/12/2012 at 00:33
There is a special place for blackened toast in my kitchen, Jane. And that’s in the bin!
09/01/2013 at 20:41
Yuk scraped toast! Evokes a strong reaction from me! I like my toast white, warm, and wafted past the toaster
09/01/2013 at 20:50
Ha! A gal after me own heart