Louise Peterkin: a poem



O Chorizo

Chop it this way: the horseshoe clean

down the middle, half in the fridge for later.

Now peer into its universe, gemmed and celled

with fat and paprika. Anatomy of a stout wee genie.

Is it so very bad for me? Yes!

you chuckled. I was in the kitchen

dicing the stuff up in a kitsch little apron

when you wrapped your arms round me from behind

sneaked a chunk into your mouth, kissed me.

Felt like I was in a '50s sitcom,

one about a housewife and a vampire:

Once Bitten... The Bloodsucker Next-door...

Of course it was cancelled. I still buy it;

I like its butch taste. The garlic, the pearls, and the ochre.

The way it stains everything, the way it stains my fingers.



Louise Peterkin is a poet from Edinburgh. In 2016 she was a recipient of a New Writers Award from the Scottish Book Trust in the poetry category. She is the co-editor, along with Rob A. Mackenzie, of Spark: Poetry and Art inspired by the Novels of Muriel Spark (Blue Diode Press, 2018). She is an assistant poetry editor for The Interpreter's House. Her poems have appeared in many publications, including The Dark Horse, The Glasgow Review of Books, Magma and The North, and her first collection of poetry, The Night Jar, is soon to be published by Salt.