Custard Puff Sunday
Point here with the authority of a magician––
––What is the real name for this?
––Navel, I say.
Sip the pearl from its cove above your lip.
In the kitchen,
smash eggs into a pan.
The radio dribbles;
an avocado slips around your knife, its flesh
softer than ours.
Slip your arm around my belly:
––I could slice you like lemon meringue.
––Baby, where are you going?
––Where are you, slim fox?
Sparrows dotting the wires.
I’m reading them like sheet music,
sounds like thunder-under-thunder.
I’m going to the corner store for secret cigarettes.
Margo LaPierre graduated from Ryerson University with a B.A. in Arts and Contemporary Studies, Philosophy Major. Her writing reflects a Canadian urban sensibility. She has been mentored by poets Hoa Nguyen and Elana Wolff. Margo’s poetry has been published in Bywords Literary Quarterly, The Feathertale Review, The Antigonish Review, The Claremont Review, and in EAT IT: A Literary Cookbook of Food, Sex and Feminism.