It felt like summer
The birds were singing
Bees were buzzing
The roses were in full bloom
He lay dead
The aroma of freshly baked cakes filled the room
The steak knife had broken going through his chest
He would have a guarantee for that knife, she thought
Him being so efficient
She decided he should be in bed
But the blanket looked silly sitting on top of the knife
A nice hole in the blanket sorted that
Then she realised she could have just put him on his side
I could have put you on your side, darling
He didn’t answer
That was another one of her pet hates, being ignored
I suppose I’ll be making dinner then
You’ll be wanting your steak well done
A bit like yourself
Well done
It felt like summer
The birds were singing
Bees were buzzing
The roses were in full bloom
He lay six foot under them.
Offline)
Comments6
'self-emancipation, requires us
to murder our love, sometimes..'
(what a raw distillation of reality
your bitter brevity, accentuates
so accessibly translucent
and yes, oft
there's an alternate, morosely noir
and depressingly bleak
outcome to all that love and romance
we scribblers love to sing about
and depict
as some guaranteed, concrete
of life's most wondrously, sublime..
but dear Poet
we sing so fervently, because
of True Love's: rarity!)
a Brilliant write, my friend
loved these lines:
'The steak knife had broken going through his chest
He would have a guarantee for that knife, she thought'
He was an efficient chap, maybe too efficient. lol
lol 'he would have a guarantee for that knife' said it all, to me
(getting lost in the minuscules of life
while running from the essentials
like consideration and basic decency...)
a great write
Did his gravestone read:- RIP Died of a stabbing pain in his chest.
Enjoyed this humourous tale and splendid choice of title.
Poor guy only mentioned there was no sugar in his tea. He won't be doing that again.
reminds me of the tradgedy of the widow who's first two husbands died of food poisoning, the third husband died of a fractured skull - he wouldn't eat his dinner.
2 more comments
A real joy of a read - top notch.
She was a tidy woman.
Wow, intense poem!
Glad she dumped me years earlier.
Another successful murder. Well done! Done so humorously.
I think you get less jail time if you do it with taste.
Good fun write Paul, did you get your money back on the guarantee?
Andy
I did. lol
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.