White-Eating Husband

White-Eating Husband

I eat only white, so what.
Mashed potatoes, glasses of milk,
vanilla ice cream. It’s good.

She tries not to look
as I pick my way through dinner
greens and yellows pushed to the side.

She says she’s leaving – my tight
roses flutter, an alarming dove slaps
and flaps in my ribcage.

A good trick, roses to doves.
Reckless applause rises
as I eat some red, its burst of sweet.

A white ambulance arrives
and a white-shirted
EMT rushes to my side.

poem and handmade paper by mary macgowan, a previous version of this poem was published in Licking River Review, Vol.30, 1998-99

4 comments on “White-Eating Husband

  1. katytaylor says:

    intriguing, mary, and beautiful paper!

  2. Bridget, artist says:

    I have 2 grandkids who are white-eating, minimalist eaters…..so can relate. I tease them with broccoli and spinach and golden yellow squash, but they cannot be tempted. The other day the eldest of the 2 proudly reported to me that he does like beets – so the lock is off the door!

    • really???
      wow! i thought this was unique!
      this poem started years ago, it was about a friend’s child. then i narrated it from a husband’s pov, thought it was interesting that way. i play around with old work that way. this poem was published years ago, like in the 1990s!

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