Love in Lockdown. A poem, by Laura Minogue

Mammy? I’m hungry?
FUCK OFF…..The words tumble from my mouth,
coated in honey and bitter lemon,
before my mind has time to register the wide eyed surprise
on my four year olds face.

My partner dissolves into peals of horrified laughter.
In a state of mild shock my baby and I, follow suit.

My four year old later reflects that steam
almost came out of my (oddly menacing) ears.

I later reflect that I must sharpen my parenting skills
And blunt my tongue.
Sometimes parenting/love in isolation look like this.

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