was the place for birthdays, special treats
and a towering Knickerbocker Glory
when Mum divorced, and we went there
to celebrate not seeing Dad so often.
I didn’t like fruit salad or strawberry
sucked like blood through a straw;
the never-ending spoon, stirring split cream
and syrup water. The confusion of tastes.
Nicholas McGaughey has new work forthcoming in Stand, Bad Lilies and Spelt. He has placed poems recently with Poetry Wales, Acumen, Popshot, A New Ulster, Poetry Scotland, Poetry Salzburg, The Atlanta Review and The Friday Poem.