There must be a little door
at the back of a cupboard
in the kitchen
of every cafe in Wellington.
A little blue door
with a polished brass handle
and a letter slot,
and maybe a knocker.
And inside
there must be
an old Eurasian badger
who has immigrated
especially
to eat the last piece
of cake
that no one wants
to eat
because they’re afraid
that its loneliness
will settle in them.
This poem was third in the Whitireia Eat Your Words poetry competition. It has been published, along with other competition poems in Eat Your Words: Wellington Cafe Poems. Email cafepoetrycomp@whitireia.ac.nz for your copy.
Used with the permission of Whitireia Publishing and Ish Done.
This poem has been posted as part of the Tuesday Poem scheme.