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She put the purple cabbage in the salad bowl
tossed it along with lithium in the salad spinner.

Now you know she had no need to use
the scissors, or the shears, or even heat the skewers

to finish off. Twenty minutes before her husband started
she would add the lithium in the salt shaker,

sprinkle the veggie with spice in the saucepan,
stuff it into the stock pot, transfer the whole into a slow cooker

and wait. She had thought it all out, no sharpening the steak knife
with steel; she would not need to use the strainer or the sieve.

Her husband took the same route from the factory
they would call her when the chauffeur started the car.

In all her married life she had planned this moment
how the triumph would be hers,and she would be heiress

to his fortune. A telephone call shattered her, ’Madam
there was car accident, a hit and run, your husband died on the spot.

She dumped her concoction into the toilet sink
and made herself a tender coconut soufflé dish.

Nice. A good little poem eith a deep concept

Can you name any poison salt?

Yes. Lithium.

I like the concept and writing. I just find the next to last stanza too convenient, too implausible to happen at just this moment. I would prefer something more subtle to put off the murder...maybe news that her husband has just come from the doctor, her husband a man who doesn't cry but comes home with tears in his eyes...the narrator deciding to delay her intention...? I don't know...something more plausible. Otherwise I like the details in this.

I will try to reword it.