PEELING

Lulled by the rays of a September star
In a surreal haze of 'out of body'
I joined your paternal trestle
To drink cold beer and set the world to right
Your women were in and out of the kitchen
With pots, like handmaidens
Tottering about to your every call
That is, until the potatoes arrived - two sacks
Then you moved
Eager to prove strength rather than help
But help it was
And like dead pigs' innards, you spilled potatoes
Onto the grass ready for your women's knives

I swapped sides to join three generations of peelers
Once of a day I wouldn't have wanted to be so cast
But there was a certain comfort in sqatting
Knee to knee, engaged in the task of peeling
Besides I didn't want the bloody work
Of butchering the lamb
Nor the sweat of heavy iron cauldrons
And cylinder gas
And it made a change not to have to listen
To your brash vulgarities

Peeling was such a sympathetic way
To bring me closer to your family
It was almost worth the hand cramps
To win approval
But it didn't win me over

Later at the celebration, when you danced
And sang, and laughed with your brothers
I, in female sobriety was a marooned astral
Hating all that segregation.