Watching the video last night was good.
The four of us stretched out on two sofas
after fish and chips. Lights dimmed.
Soon the heroine, a distracted single mum
with three kids in the red-neck South,
is in deep, deep trouble. Satanism.
Haddock, mushy peas and a large Sprite.
In her nightmare, someone is on the bed
trying to strangle her. She wakes in a sweat.
‘Pause’ to put the kettle on. The youngest
is happy to be put to bed. A story,
but only short because it is Saturday.
‘Play’. As she hangs out the washing on the line,
her dead mother approaches with a basket of persimmons.
All the scarier for not being a nightmare.
My son is puzzled by the plum-like orange fruit,
and while discussing its taste and origins
we miss the psycho with the baseball bat.
‘Stop.’ ‘Rewind?’ No, let her stay for ever
in the deep deep South. Eating forbidden fruit.
Hanging out the nightmares with her dead mother.