Tea Room Poem

October 23, 2009 at 7:57 am | Posted in Poem | 2 Comments
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Spoon Maori

When holding a wet teaspoon,

Prithee, stop and think:

‘Shall I wash and dry the bastard,

Or chuck it in the sink?’

 –

Imagine all your workmates

Gathered at your side;

Fondling their bread knives

As you try to decide.

Picture sixteen Staysharps,

Keen and cold and true,

Dicing you to dog food

And you’ll know what to do.

Brought to you by The Feisty Empire.

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