is the spice of life, they say.
Well I don’t really like spicy things.
When I come home to the same warm bed every night –
that’s the stuff I like.
The same table, chairs and cutlery
waiting for me at breakfast –
I like that.
A different set of shoes in the hallway;
some other car in the driveaway;
a new school every few years –
that’s the stuff that burns
in the back of my throat.
Variety might be the chilli powder,
but I want the solid stuff, the nourishment.
I need the potatoes, the chicken, the rice –
the things that fill up a life.