Compelling: Spicy Repast

Getting mad about
Not being present:
Losing now
And finding it
In preparing supper;

Seeking meaning in
Chopping vegetables,
But discovering rage
And hacking away angrily;

This fury arose unbidden
From nowhere
And continued unabated,
Could not be sated;

And so, I waited impatiently
For the stew to cook,
This ire served up hot
And sticky;

Resentment, bitterness
Flavours this meal,
More spicy than the black pepper
That I shake into it;

Yet as empty as
The knife I cut with,
And as sharp as
The blade.

From whence does this irateness arise?
And when will it go?
To neither of these questions
Do I have the answer;

And so, I just keep watch
On the contents of the pot stirring,
And try lowering the temperature
To prevent the burning.