Taking my pet hate
walking tonight: Survivor’s
on the box and they
drive me spare. Thinking: if
one of those airheads
had met you Nanny, they’d
explode. Mines, incendiaries &
all the steel the Luftwaffe
could unload and still
they couldn’t knock you off! So sit
there by the fire, my dear &
puff your Capstan Cork. I saw
the way your goobies sizzled
when you hoicked dead centre
in the red hot coals. Pet hate nips
at my ankle as we stroll.
Jeffrey Paparoa Holman
poeticbrandscapes.art 