06-11-2014, 08:29 AM
Setting the Table
(edit Erthona, ellajam, billy)
The microwave oven came for Christmas,
the same year as the Big Bang,
and we reheated gravy
like it was nobody's business
whether we said Grace first,
or not.
We watched it bubbling over,
and bubbled over ourselves, a little,
drunk with optimism
and toasting to now,
finally arrived with a box of wine.
We had a three year affair
with three minute popcorn,
and whatever our lot was,
the plot was for the house to smell of theatre.
That was good enough for us.
My mother served up trifle
in a champagne glass
thin enough for any sweet-tooth
to bite clean through,
but her coffee was total shit-
a shame because some of us
looked forward to it,
even more than the gravy.
She always kept the gravy hot,
but too often there was more to the meat
than we could gloss over
with chewed fat and drippings.
This year we made hot dogs-
in the microwave,
so the place doesn't smell
of the same home-cooked play as last year.
It's so much easier for things to get harder now.
We're more prepared for big bangs
when you press the wrong button
or keep something in too long.
[/u]
Setting the table original
The microwave oven came to our house for Christmas the same year as the Big Bang.
And we reheated gravy like it was nobody's business whether we said Grace first, or not.
We watched it bubbling over.
And we bubbled over ourselves, a little,
Toasting to a pastel future,
Toasting to now, finally arrived and with wine.
We had a three year affair with three minute popcorn,
And whatever our lot was,
The plot was for the house to smell of theatre,
And that was good enough for us.
My mother served trifle in a champagne glass,
That any sweet-tooth would bite through to taste.
But her coffee was total shit;
A shame because some of us looked forward to it,
More than the gravy even.
She always kept the gravy hot,
But sometimes there was more to the meat than we could gloss over,
With chewed fat and drippings.
This year we made hot dogs in the microwave,
So the place doesn't smell of the same home-cooked play as last year.
It's so much easier for things to get harder now.
We're more prepared for big bangs,
When you press the wrong button,
Or keep something in too long.
(edit Erthona, ellajam, billy)
The microwave oven came for Christmas,
the same year as the Big Bang,
and we reheated gravy
like it was nobody's business
whether we said Grace first,
or not.
We watched it bubbling over,
and bubbled over ourselves, a little,
drunk with optimism
and toasting to now,
finally arrived with a box of wine.
We had a three year affair
with three minute popcorn,
and whatever our lot was,
the plot was for the house to smell of theatre.
That was good enough for us.
My mother served up trifle
in a champagne glass
thin enough for any sweet-tooth
to bite clean through,
but her coffee was total shit-
a shame because some of us
looked forward to it,
even more than the gravy.
She always kept the gravy hot,
but too often there was more to the meat
than we could gloss over
with chewed fat and drippings.
This year we made hot dogs-
in the microwave,
so the place doesn't smell
of the same home-cooked play as last year.
It's so much easier for things to get harder now.
We're more prepared for big bangs
when you press the wrong button
or keep something in too long.
[/u]
Setting the table original
The microwave oven came to our house for Christmas the same year as the Big Bang.
And we reheated gravy like it was nobody's business whether we said Grace first, or not.
We watched it bubbling over.
And we bubbled over ourselves, a little,
Toasting to a pastel future,
Toasting to now, finally arrived and with wine.
We had a three year affair with three minute popcorn,
And whatever our lot was,
The plot was for the house to smell of theatre,
And that was good enough for us.
My mother served trifle in a champagne glass,
That any sweet-tooth would bite through to taste.
But her coffee was total shit;
A shame because some of us looked forward to it,
More than the gravy even.
She always kept the gravy hot,
But sometimes there was more to the meat than we could gloss over,
With chewed fat and drippings.
This year we made hot dogs in the microwave,
So the place doesn't smell of the same home-cooked play as last year.
It's so much easier for things to get harder now.
We're more prepared for big bangs,
When you press the wrong button,
Or keep something in too long.