I was busy yesterday and allowed World Poetry Day to pass me by, so it is too late to offer my customary greeting of
Hip hip hooray!
It’s World Poetry Day!
and I don’t think
Hip hip hooray!
It’s the day after World Poetry Day!
will do. Instead, here is something called
The Poet Peels An Onion
She cannot peel it in the ordinary way
There has to be mythology and blood
(Her knife runs round King Oedipus’s eye)
The outer layer comes off as a whole
(Like the dead leaf that Aristaeus scorned)*
But after that it gets more difficult
The peel is not the end, is not even
The beginning of the end
The onion has to have the final say
The cloves with which she studs it
After peeling are not mere cloves
(But the helmets of the Seven Against Thebes)
Tears come to her eyes
This is what she likes about onions –
At no cost, they can make you cry
*I cannot, for the life of me, remember what this line is about. There is an Antaeus in Greek mythology, but what, if anything, he had to do with onions, and in what circumstances he scorned a dead leaf, I have no idea. If anyone can enlighten me, I would be grateful.
freeversefolkestone 
Glad to have found your blog, Anthony. On World Poetry Day too, how cool is that? I will look forward to reading through your earlier offerings!
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