WHO IS TUMBLING SIDEWAYS ACROSS THE TABLE? Comments

Is it you?
Are you choking on a Brussels sprout, perhaps?
The glasses falling
the red wine spotting the table cloth
The peas out of the bowl
Like a torn-off pearl necklace

Is it you gasping for air?
Forward bent
Your chest against the table's edge
Your arms
Do you surrender?
Do you rest your forehead against the roast?
Your chin in the potatoes you mashed with the gravy
You who were looking forward to that gravy
the lingonberry jam
You who were looking forward to the dessert
The filled apples, the dash of cream and the raisins
To the summer with seagulls

What do we do then?
Do we thump your back?
Do we stick fingers down your throat?
Try to squeeze your waist
and push a fist
into your midriff?
Or do we just stand and watch
Put the fork nicely down
next to the plate
Straighten the scrunched tablecloth
Stop talking

Is it you suffocating?
Why are you looking at me?
Do you think I can help?
Should I find the scalpel
and make a shortcut for your breath?
Open your chest, your throat
And remove the Brussels sprout with tweezers

Imagine, a Brussels sprout
Would you rather have chosen to fall?
Dive forwards down the cliff?
Or burn alive?
The smoke like a mattress over your mouth
or just one Friday morning
not wake up to the alarm clock
not wake up to the doorbell
just stretch sleep, stretch sleep
into nothingness
...
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