POEM: “Maybe, Baby” — I’ll look after the FOH / While you go mental on some aspect.

Maybe, Baby

And even in the gore…
And before the stories, poems, lore…
And like some times before…
I still brought you water.

You laid in the bed and watched
as I packed a suitcase, shocked.
I paused, got you water
and came to touch your shoulder.

“My poor dear” is what I thought.
“You silly man.” Your rage.
Your anger, temper deranged.
Your big brown eyes, so afraid.

Christ I want to write you about brownies
How you could sell them each for $6 NZD.
Turn a profit on a dessert vegan treat.
If you’d only start smiling less sarcastically.

And even in the gore
Of all my new assholes you tore.
And like some times before
I still want to save you, your business more.

The thought of you doing wages
Making schedules, sketching budgets.
I’ll look after the FOH
While you go mental on some aspect.

“My poor darling,” lighten up.
You’re loved and all is forgiven.
You’re still the last one inside my system.
And the only one whose maybe baby I live with.

Christ I want to invite you to Peru
Soak in ayahuasca and be healed by a guru.
Like our migraine auras in fractal vision
Releasing demons, all is forgiven.

Maybe, baby you’ll see sense
Calmly reunite in renewed friendship.
When you go down under do you get right in the head?
Or scare and taunt forever in challenge?

Sylvie Hill, September 11, 2020 – Montreal


Here’s the recipe. Use a DARK cocoa for the topping so it contrasts with the lighter cocoa filling with the dates you’ll use. This kind of thing fetches $6.99 in Canada. They’re so bloody rich and filling, cut your portion, save the batch. Add some coffee beans on top before freezing. But not pepperoni, keep that for your pizzas that apparently take too fucking long to cook according to your reviews. And look at this Netflix program, Restaurants on the Edge. Good bunch, the dudes are reachable via Twitter. You’re a resto on the edge and on the edge, so reach out. This is a code red. Ship ahoy. I don’t actually know what that means and learned recently a code red apparently is a kill code or a bomb threat, but really I always thought it to me a “mayday.” Nope, just looked that up and it’s a distress signal, which is apt. But maybe it’s a lighthouse I was after. A beacon. A sign. A dashboard light. Keep driving through the city lights.