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Donall Dempsey
Poems
Aug 2015
A DISH FIT FOR THE GODS
We had the best table
at the very edge of creation.
Our waiter
( the Devil you know )
looking so
debonaire and almost human
rattling off
an expensive menu.
Embarrassingly I had to have it translated into Mortal.
The Devil's faux
supernatural accent
really grated
and I could detect
a slight Aberystwyth
tone.
"Now, this night
of nights
we are serving
a very rare Kraken
fried in a rich
imagination.
Or a superb Leviathan
basted in delicious mythological sauce.
I'm afraid the slightly sautéed souls are off.
And to drink
we have the finest minds
( from all time )
our cellars are the envy
of the Imaginary.
Or may I be so bold as to suggest
the latest universe?
Or a sparkling non-alcoholic
sub-conscious.
And for starters?
Some screams perhaps?"
God burps:
"I pray thee, pardon!"
I apologised
said I had already eaten
in a previous life
and that I was
anyway
a dreamatarian.
But if I could
have a glass of H2O?
I listened to the table talk
understanding very little
I didn't speak
fluent Creationese.
I politely made my excuses
and left
...before the after dinner
speeches.
Written by
Donall Dempsey
Guildford
(Guildford)
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