BRAD ALDRIDGE

 

homemaking

 

a plastic bag
burst open
on the front steps:
six fresh oranges
that didn’t quite
make it home.
under the
electric light,
tiny glowing suns.

i lie and say
i’m going to
fix this,
stay outside
to ask them how
they survive
the violence.
you carry on, storing
the salt, vinegar, honey,
neatly into the dark.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Brad Aldridge is a writer currently living in Wellington. He completed his Masters in Creative Writing at the IIML earlier this year.