On the way home from school <br />you and Helen stopped <br /> <br />and looked in the window <br />of the pie and eel shop <br /> <br />where a man was cutting off heads <br />of live eels <br /> <br />and then slitting them open <br />and knifing out the guts <br /> <br />and then chopping them <br />up into small pieces <br /> <br />and Helen said <br />yuk what's he doing <br /> <br />to those poor eels? <br />you were engrossed in watching <br /> <br />the man's knife slit through <br />the necks so easy <br /> <br />that the pieces still wriggled <br />after he pushed them <br /> <br />into a bucket on the side <br />people eat them <br /> <br />you said <br />whether jellied <br /> <br />or in pies <br />with mash and liquor <br /> <br />horrible <br />Helen said <br /> <br />how could they? <br />People will eat anything <br /> <br />you replied <br />turning to gaze <br /> <br />at her horrified face <br />her eyes magnified <br /> <br />behind her thick lens spectacles <br />I read somewhere <br /> <br />that some people ate others <br />in the Leningrad siege <br /> <br />you added <br />she grabbed your hand <br /> <br />and squeezed it tight <br />they never did <br /> <br />you're lying <br />she said <br /> <br />her eyes focused on you <br />and not the eels <br /> <br />or the man executing them <br />you saw her lower lip tremble <br /> <br />and said <br />ok they didn't <br /> <br />you said softly <br />she looked back at the man <br /> <br />and the eels <br />and sighed <br /> <br />and you felt her warm flesh <br />and her small thumb <br /> <br />on the back of your hand <br />and although you knew <br /> <br />what had happened <br />you lied to protect her <br /> <br />from the truth <br />not wanting her innocence <br /> <br />undone by brutal humanity <br />and its wars <br /> <br />and you kept it <br />to your 9 year old self <br /> <br />a whole bundle of facts <br />like an unwanted wealth.<br /><br />Terry Collett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unwanted-wealth/
