04-08-2015, 07:58 AM
done. april 7th poem of the month
Sandy Pork Chops
The sun had come, the sunblock empty;
the outside gauge read over twenty
deg' centigrade, and rising steady.
With Feet like prawns on charcoal ready;
my pink and swollen face was messy.
The hankerchief on head not dressy.
I trod on sand and looked ungainly.
the better half threw oil but mainly
I was fuckin' barbecued.
sorry for being late.
Sandy Pork Chops
The sun had come, the sunblock empty;
the outside gauge read over twenty
deg' centigrade, and rising steady.
With Feet like prawns on charcoal ready;
my pink and swollen face was messy.
The hankerchief on head not dressy.
I trod on sand and looked ungainly.
the better half threw oil but mainly
I was fuckin' barbecued.
sorry for being late.