Quinoa Is Only Spelt Like That To Out The Working Class
Emily Harrison

The junior doctor
doesn’t need to prove anything to the dinner table

He says it all when boasting
                                 “I now have the power to section people”

I see the child
pretending
to drop the priceless vase
with over dramatic unstable hands

The rich kid showing off his remote controlled
                                         whatever it is

The big red press me but you really shouldn’t press me button

He’s one of those
filling up my wine glass without my permission
drowning my food in gravy
when I specifically said
                         just a little bit

Someone actually laughs

And I sit in my highchair
all oblivious smiles with food face

I was the only one who had to ask for a napkin

The fork in the right hand, the knife in the wrong hand
            stop hitting yourself

At least if someone chokes on their food
           or god forbid their words
we’re in safe hands

I force in another profiterole
revenge is a dish served best to whoever prepped it

A former member of The Barbican Young Poets, Emily performs regularly in London and across the UK both as a member of The Burn After Reading Collective and a solo performer. In 2010, Emily won Oxford University's Christopher Tower Poetry Prize. She has been published in Popshot, Rising (where this poem first appeared) and was one of eight poets to have their work on the theme of London showcased at Boxpark, Shoreditch. 

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