Shop Assistant to Little Boy: Do you want a lolly? Have a lolly.
Father to shop assistant: No.
SA to LB: Don’t you want a lolly? Go on. Take one.
Father to SA: No. No lollies.
SA to LB: Do you want a chocolate then? Have a chocolate.
Father to SA: No.
SA to Father: Awww… but why?
Father to SA: Ummm… because I said so.
SA to LB (pouting sadly): Ohhhhhhh… becawwws your Dad “Said So”.
Sophie’s long-time mentor looked on with bewilderment as she stepped over the edge of time with trepidation on her face.
“Maybe the next one will do it properly”, he muttered.
Wrote a self-fulfilling poem about a serious poem competing with sprinkles from on high of teensy snow white flower petals for its author’s undivided attention realising with dismay that it would never see the light of day, but being unable to stifle a childish chuckle at the one that looked like a pair of butt cheeks.
Biggest toad in the puddle
table topped into the beef tea;
First day of spring:
you polish the silverware, I
hang spoons from my nose.
Rattle, rattle, rattle…
guy in the McDonald’s carpark
sitting on your haunches
at your mate’s open car
scanning me up and down
as I pass
narrow slits emitting dark
hostilities for eyes.
Chew with your mouth closed.