five brown sausages
in a stainless pan
waiting for a busy
young man
as we shovel
flageolet beans
or croissants with
melted cheese
into our seventies
mouths
chomping at this
mashed repast
with our remaining
baleen
as we stare at
repeats of M.A.S.H.
wondering where it
all goes:
only the cats look
happy
they can’t read
with affection
about that dog's breakfast, the 2016 election
here is the news
switched over to Dr
Who
in for the kill as we sieve our krill
for chrissake where
is that young man —
I think we need a
Five Year Plan.
Good one Robert :)
ReplyDelete(The election is already doing my head in.)
Thanks Lizz. Same here! :)
ReplyDeletehaha!
ReplyDeleteMade me smile about something so unfunny. Thank you! :)
ReplyDelete