By Geoffrey Aitken
she’s dill pickling,
my gran
so i watch her push one
into a jar space
i had not seen
saying,
‘there’s always room,’
& in my child’s head
i’m aware
i’m always loving someone
who’s loving someone else
then when i look again
she’s squeezed in
another cucumber.
Geoffrey Aitken writes in Adelaide, on unceded Kaurna land as an awarded poet whose stylized industrial minimalism communicates his lived experience with publishers both locally (AUS) and internationally (the UK, US, CAN, Fr & CN). Next (US) poetry at, ‘The Closed Eye Open’ and more recently, ‘The Meadowlark Review’ took his Flash Fiction (US), ‘Stepway Magazine’ (UK), ‘unusual work’, ‘Oxygen’ and ‘The Canberra Times’ (AUS), more poetry. In 2022 he was nominated for the annual Best of the Net anthology.
Hot Pot Magazine 