IT’S AN OLD TRICK:

A fat man sits at a corner table,
Watching a room,
Clouds of perfumed men talk strategy,
Locusts in suits,
Smelling of shower gel,
Too much aftershave,
They stroke each other with calculated laughter,
Prelude to dancing,
Circling the buffet,
Stripping it of diced fruit,
Opening lap tops between knives & forks,
Tapping rhythms with tiny claws,
Exposing rows of fresh teeth,
Young guys,
Dressed as old guys,

Somebody drops something,
It smashes,
Somebody laughs,
Somebody looks embarrassed,
Is escorted from the room,
Concealing something wrapped in linen,
A child?

The toast is burned,
Doors are flung wide,
A chill wind enters as the toaster exits,
Pandemonium breaks out,
The salt takes advantage,
Steals a kiss from the pepper,
Tea floats belly-up,
Cocooned in a silk purse,
It’s arse revealed,
A legless duck,
Languishing in a puddle of tepid water,

The fat man sits alone in a ray of sunshine,
Looking dazed,
Tiny eyes,
Tiny mouth,
Tiny fingers,
Unable to recall how he got here

(K)