content note: mention of death
I made a chestnut man:
A round belly, inedible pulp
Skinny legs made of matches.
They rot on frosty nights before
Coats were pulled out of wardrobes.
Pine tree wreaths, chrysanthemum.
All for the dead.
Steaming naphtaline and damp wool.
Warm, digested words coming out and
A halo of sweets sold in kiosks.
The dead chewed earthy soil;
We sucked on hard sour candy.
Loud and crunchy.
Let perpetual light shine on them,
Chupa Chups Cola lollies, amen.
was born in Poland. She works as a bookseller in Cambridge. She earned her MA in Biography and Creative Non-Fiction at UEA. Currently Kinga is writing a food memoir. Her favourite nostalgic food is botwinka.
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SPOONFEED x New Writing © Caitlin Allen