It’s a quarter to twelve and I’m staring at this yellow light
Not sure if I’m looking for food or something to think about
I’m not hungry, but I’m certainly not full
A midnight snack fool with yellow light hue
The greens that occupy my bottom two shelves
Beach Boys asking about my favourite vegetable
Its aubergine if you must know, brain at quarter to twelve
But greens aren’t what I’m after, I’m in need of something else
A jar full of vinegar with a single pickled onion
I stick my fingers in to reach but my claws just aren’t long enough
Swilling, and mixing, and digging them in deeper
Get a spoon you idiot, you tangy onion sweeper
Crunch of the onion fills a minuscule hole
Put the empty jar in the fridge next to a suspect bowl
A constant reminder of my inherent laziness
Fridge full of browning food, to clean it never takes precedence
It’s a quarter to twelve and I’m staring at this yellow light
Not sure if I’m looking for food or something to think about
I’m not hungry, but I’m certainly not full
A midnight snack fool with yellow light hue
A jar of mincemeat without the lid, a spoon protrudes
To not take advantage would simply be rude
Sweetness, sereneness, reminds me of christmas
Lifting my spirits with a brandy-soaked richness
Tart slice of grapefruit, dry around the edges
Delicious breakfast treat to delve my lips into
Cold night like this warrants no such selection
I crave sweet and savoury, mixed to perfection
As the light bakes my face and ingredients stare
Back at me, tomato eyes with browned lettuce hair
Nose of carrot, ears of parsnip, with teeth of tinned sweetcorn
Cranberry sauce cheeks on a fridge face forlorn
It’s a quarter to twelve and I’m staring at this yellow light
Not sure if I’m looking for food or something to think about
I’m not hungry, but I’m certainly not full
A midnight snack fool with yellow light hue
Atop my fridge sits dust, above a gifted recipe book
It goes with me, near unused, wherever I move
Five hundred plus dishes all of indian cuisine
Makes me think of Mum and all that she’s done for me
Underneath sits another book on making vegan sweets
A gift from the parents of a friend I hold dearly
I say friend in earnest, as I don’t want to say ex
Ex suggests used to be, but they’re not a used-to-be friend
Behind all those memories sits a colourful kit
A mix for making cakes with, in a crushed box and lid
Decorated with mermaids, a multi-tiered treat
For my many layered love with her bare monkey feet
It’s a quarter to twelve and I’m staring at this yellow light
Not sure if I’m looking for food or something to think about
A mermaid baking kit that reminds me of you
I go back to bed bathed in that yellow light hue
Brandon Cole is an amateur writer living in Inverness. He works to support underrepresented young people into the UK games industry. From England, but always in Scotland – his spiritual home and constant source of inspiration.
Twitter: @banddcole