• Gary Hunter

Aunt Marge (circa 1959) May 11, 2020



She pulls a flat pan from the fridge

crinkle flash sunlight

skitters off crumpled foil


Both sneakers squeak as my nose and one

hand leans into a cut square and lifts


Lips smother it's cool sweet density

as eyes unfocus then roll back

teeth glance off a walnut and server off

the chunk my mouth twirls and mixes


Fudge sugared buttered melted chocolate

my tongue wallows like a pig in mud


Dad's words a dentist's sugary warning

of dietary debauchery hover in the

back of my swallow


I look up beg with wide eyes

for another as the guilt of

the first one loiters brown

on the walls of my throat

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