Poetry: Parotid Gland

By Majekodunmi Oseriemen Ebhohon

TWO boys sit near the doorway.

One is eating Indomie from the pot
with a fork bent at the neck.

The other lifts the lid from a pot of beans
every few minutes
looking at what cannot be hurried.

Steam gathers on his face
then leaves again.

The boy keeps slurping
like someone finishing
the last malt through a straw.

The beans continue in bubbles.
Now and then
one climbs the wooden spoon
and falls back in.

The boy wipes his mouth
with the back of his hand
and stretches his legs into the room.

The other adds water,
stirs slowly,
and measures the distance
between the plate rack and the pot.