Milka's mother
dishes up dinner
her father and brothers
sit around the table
Milka sits on the end
deep in thought
after dishing up all meals
the mother sits down
next to Milka
opposite her husband
the father says grace
and they all mutter an Amen
then begin the meal
the father talks
about a cow that's sick
her brothers follow
with talk of the fishes
they nearly caught
but got away
Milka says nothing
but watches her mother
who talks about a new coat
she'd like but was maybe
(gazing at the husband)
too dear
Milka wonders
if her mother
does fancy Benny
and if given a chance
she'd lead him up to bed
and have her
middle-aged way with him
and he just 16 and a bit
Milka muses darkly
mouthing mashed potatoes
after all she always seems
all over him if I'm upstairs
bathing or getting ready
always plying him
with tea and biscuits
and wiggling
(according to Benny)
her backside and pushing out
her middle-aged breasts
near him
(if what Benny
says is true)
you're quiet
her mother says
what's got you
in a mood?
they all look at Milka
with forks half way
to their mouths
nothing
Milka says
looking at the tablecloth
a fork stuck in the sausage
not in a mood
just being quiet that's all
she says
you and Benny haven't
had a tiff have you?
her mother says
leaning in towards her
no we haven't
Milka says
wondering why her mother
thinks that why she'd
be interested in her
and Benny
your face says different
her mother says
the others continue to eat
Milka says nothing
but eats on
Benny seems ok
at work
one of her brothers says smiling
must be all right
the other brother says
never seen him
so happy
that's enough
the mother says
no winding Milka up
you know what she's like
if tormented
Milka eats and stares
at her father
to see if he'll say anything
the hens are laying well
he says
more eggs coming along
than ever
that's good
mother says
looking at him
Milka gazes at
her mother's breasts
wondering if Benny
was telling the truth
about them being motherly
and how would he know?
she eats her sausage
her eyes darkly aglow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh, Terry! Just the right poem to start the day with.. she eats her sausage her eyes darkly aglow. Brilliant final two lines among many! Very Eliotesque! You know the lines her camisoles and stays touched by the sun's last rays. Poor Milka. Looks to me she has a right to be worried. Sounds like Benny's been keeping abreast of matter mother-wise! I'm afraid I can only give you a ten tho' it's worth a 50 at least.Funniest poem I've read in ages!