Written by Frances Gaudiano
An Italian delicacy you said: Lamb’s head: Eyeballs staring, teeth protruding. Hammer hits skull, Brains spray across the table. Our soprano screams Harmonize with your hoarse chuckle. I am nearly thirty and have never eaten In an Italian restaurant. Stupid with love, I let the current object Of my worship lead me anywhere. Every single atom reminds me of you. Coaxing me to eat, you created, Your special Caesar’s salad – That’s the first course. Spaghetti, in the sauce you’d Stir all day on Sundays. And for dessert, amaretto biscotti, Something you sucked on while dying. I cannot even drown in the wine, That, especially, is yours. I go home and vomit, Retching over and over Until every last vestige of Authentic Italian cuisine is Thrust from my body.
.
Frances Gaudiano is a veterinary nurse by day and a writer in all her spare moments. Her novel, The Listener, was published in 2021 and its sequel is due out later this year. Additionally, she has had poetry and short stories appear in a variety of online and print journals and she is the author of a textbook on Veterinary Dermatology. Currently, she lives in Cornwall (England) with two dogs, a large snake and two humans.