Carole Coates

Feast Day

This is your meal formal as the levee
of a royal personage, some pale Infanta
decked out for Corpus Christi.

For how but in custom or in ceremony
could you expose your body
to this extreme event?

Try a pale kidney, naked from the grill
or the small moist heart of a lamb chop
or the white breast of a tiny bird?

You've renounced the treason of vegetables
since butter, like a dagger,
was concealed in the dish.

Once you sliced the globe of an egg
and its yellow eye stared at you.
You're like a funeral or a coronation.

Perform your stately and exiguous feeding.
People might even pay to watch you eat
some would give anything to see it.

This poem first appeared in Smiths Knoll 38, 2006
and in Looking Good , Shoestring Press, 2009

© 2006 Carole Coates

The poems on these pages are the intellectual property of the author and may not be reproduced in any form without permission.


Last updated 17 November 2009