Three cans of carling looking hurriedly abandoned
Unwanted
Full of fizzy cheer
Left by the verge of the knocking shop
Née graveyard
There they were
Frozen spudcuts with two sorry eggs
Weeks if not months past their best
Butchered
Hours of digital Morgan and
Not one single tune known
Beforehand
Shave chin and neck front and back fill the bath three times over
Afterwards
Choke under an assortment of
Sarah Lunds finest
Knitwear
Open the curtain to the main window
Blankly gaze through a fine lace
View
Is it really five years?
Tabs and Butts
Fill the ashtray
Formerly known as
Soupbowl
The scent of half cooked oven chips
Turns my stomach
Yellow
A decision is made to sup
It down quickly
Turn the oven
Off
Written by
Seb Smythe
Sep 23, 2024
Sep 23, 2024 at 8:42 AM UTC