12-17-2015, 06:47 PM
(12-17-2015, 06:17 PM)Leanne Wrote: There are six types of falafel wrappers
and all of them end up in the same place. Disgrace.
Kebabs fare better -- those around the chickens
are like characters from Dickens, downtrodden but upbeat
beneath ceaselessly tramping feet.
But no, Miss Havisham does not lurk around the lamb --
that's Bathsheba's. Through every poke
she's dreamed of Oak; he comes quietly
with sheep. Where the pavements crack, it's
the Sacketts, true L'amour, beef and leather
wrapped together with sauce, of course.
Where doners dwell, in hangover heavens,
the stories are trod by stilettos; the ghettos
strew pages of foetid fiction. From your garret,
see lettuce and carrot become grey. These remnants
pray that you leave them their fun
and don't turn them over to
Miss Dickinson.
the dam has burst, Leanne, now that the schoolies are gone,
and the finest flower* of Queensland's youth hasn't set fire to your lawn
*a wasted adolescent is still somebody's freakin son
so please post more oft
----- signed, Emily Dickinson

